Harry Potter and the Master of Past and Present
by The-Caitiff
Summary: At the end of Harry's fifth year, a new player joins the game. Can he be trusted? What if by helping him Harry is releasing something even worse than Voldemort into the world?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer; I do not own any of the characters and locations described herein, nor is any money being made from this work of fiction.

A/N; This story is my response to INeedABetterName's challenge on DarkLordPotter. Harry meets and is trained/corrupted by a TRUE Dark Lord. Who better than the Master of Past and Present. Go read some Dragonlance if you don't immediately know who this is. I reccomend the Chronicles quartet and "Soulforge" for some awesome background on one of the best written and most successful dark wizards of all time._  
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_Dumbledore bellowed: "Stay where you are, Harry!"_

_For the first time, Dumbledore sounded frightened. Harry could not see why: the hall was quite empty but for themselves, the sobbing Bellatrix still trapped under the witch statue and the baby phoenix Fawkes croaking feebly on the floor. _

_Then Harry's scar burst open and he knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance._

_He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began: they were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape._

_And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move, "Kill me now, Dumbledore…" _

_Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again…_

_"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy…"_

_Let the pain stop, thought Harry… let him kill us… end it, Dumbledore… death is nothing compared to this…_

_(Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 36)_

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As the world around him faded to black, Harry somehow felt time slow down. The world faded back into focus, sort of… It was as if Harry in that moment time had stopped was transported into a magical workshop atop a tower somewhere. The room was octagonal in shape, with bookshelves lining the walls with the exception of two windows which provided inadequate light but showed nothing beyond them. The room had three work tables and a few chairs near a comfortable looking hearth. The first table was lined with bottles and jars of potions and tinctures. There were a few creatures Harry could not identify floating in a few of the jars. The other two tables were cluttered with arcane scribbles and open books. Harry idly wondered where he was and how he got there as he looked around.

"Shirak!" a frail sounding voice sad from behind him. Suddenly the room was much brighter.

Harry spun around and dropped into a fighting crouch to find a strange looking man behind him. The figure wore all black robes with a hood drawn over his head, and was hunched over a staff with a glowing crystal atop it. Bone white hair spilled out from under the hood before the man tried to straighten himself. If the man were standing tall he would have probably been fairly tall, but his emaciated body and weak muscles prevented that.

"Excuse me sir, but where are we and how did I get here?" Harry asked as politely as he could given his nerves

"This is my Tower, but more importantly we are in your mind. You are here because I wish to speak with you." The man began moving towards a seat near the fire. "Unless I am mistaken, you have just given up on life. So I am here to make you an offer."

"What kind of offer?" Harry asked warily.

"Power," The man said simply as he sat down. "You have a great deal of untapped power and potential and yet you have just surrendered your life without much of a fight. I am offering to tap that potential for you and rescue you from your current peril."

Harry thought about what he had said as he took a seat across from him at the hearth. There were many questions of course but one seemed rather important. "Who are you?" Harry asked with undisguised curiosity.

"My name is of no real consequence to the offer I am making." Was his reply as the other man leaned back in his chair and brought his fingertips together in front of his still concealed face. When he let go of the staff, the slender piece of wood stayed balanced on its end and lit. Harry noticed that the skin of the stranger's hands and lower face were golden in color, like metal poured over flesh.

"What is the catch? I don't even know who you are, why would you just graciously decide to come to my rescue?"

"Ah, so you have a mind to back the strength in magic. Nothing is ever free of course but I do not think you will find my terms too onerous. I will take advantage of my skills and knowledge to escape the current encounter alive, and in return I will occasionally get to use your body in the mortal world. You have sufficient magical strength for my purposes so in the moment you were about to slip from the land of the living to that of the dead, I diverted you here to make my offer."

"Let me get this straight. You want me to give you control of my body in exchange for a rescuing me?" Harry practically yelled. He was remembering Quirrel and Voldemort.

"Essentially yes, but it is not as bad as it sounds. I will not abuse your body, nor commit any crimes. After all, if something were to happen to you it would effectively kill me as well. If you are imprisoned, I am imprisoned. My goals are not so nefarious." The Stranger explained.

"Just what are those goals? What are you hoping to use me to accomplish? And why now?" Harry asked, not wanting to get suckered into anything.

"My goals are very simple. I want to come back to the mortal realm. When I was alive I was alternately a hero, a villain, a conqueror, a savior, and for a short time even a god. I have grown tired of the afterlife and wish to return to a human body. I chose you and now because you have enough raw power to accomplish my goals and with your state of near death I am actually able to stop time to speak with you."

"But what do you want? When you have human form once again will you relax and take up a normal life, work for the betterment of others, or go on a psychopathic killing spree? I'll have you know there are already plenty of the last options available."

The stranger chuckled slightly before falling into a rasping cough. "Your views of good and evil are so childish, but I will try to answer anyway. I am a Black Robed Arch Magus, so it would be a lie to say I would never harm another. I no longer have dreams of world conquest or godhood, but I work for myself first last and always. I will not often do something unless I will profit from it. I am evil, but I am an evil you can live with. There are laws I follow just as there are laws you follow I assume."

"So you're evil but still follow the rules?" Harry asked, confused.

"I gave my life and my very soul to Magic in all its forms. I understand the need for a balance between good and evil if the world is to continue."

"Can I extract a promise from you not to kill me once you've accomplished your goals?"

"If you assist me I will not kill you unless it is unavoidable. You have my word as an Arch Magus. Now will you help me? I cannot stop time all day for you to make this decision."

Harry turned inward to consider everything. There was a self proclaimed evil wizard who wanted to possess his body until he found a way to resurrect himself. He was offering power and his life in trade. Was it acceptable to make a bargain with the lesser of two evils? Harry strapped all the mental backbone he could together for his response. "I accept. I, Harry James Potter, will allow my body to be possessed in exchange for my life and a promise not to kill me at a later date."

The other wizard stood. "Excellent, now let us return time to its normal passage and seal our deal."

The room began to fade away and spin at the same time as Harry called out, "Wait, you never told me your name!" but it was too late.

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The Ministry of Magic faded into existence in front of Harry's eyes. He felt the other wizard join him trapped beneath Voldemort's control. With a cold savagery that chilled Harry to the bone, he felt the other presence gather it's strength and toss Voldemort aside as if he were a rag doll.

Harry's arms began moving in a complex pattern and a chant ran through his mind. Magic burned through his blood as his wand dropped to the floor. The exact instant Harry disappeared from sight a duplicate popped into existence not far away and began making rude gestures at both Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Voldemort immediately sent a killing curse at Harry's duplicate while Dumbledore levitated another piece of the statue into its way. Risking a few spoken words, the wizard in control whispered another incantation while moving his hands in the right manner. The shadow that coalesced in front of Harry was like a monster from his worst nightmare. Fortunately the shadow monster moved directly towards Voldemort and was content to leave Harry be. Voldemort saw the savage beast, now not just a shadow but a true killer, as it approached him. He cast a killing curse which the monster appreared to bat aside as if it was nothing. In reality, it continued harmlessly on its way. Harry could see the fear in Voldemort's eyes as he moved to get behind the Dark Lord.

When Voldemort backed away from the fearsome monster, he wound up getting closer to Harry. With the Dark Lord distracted in fear, Harry's body picked up an arm from the destroyed statue. Just as the monster was to reach Voldemort, and Voldemort would have backed into Harry, Harry swung the heavy metal arm like a cricket bat into the base of the Dark Lord's skull. As Harry felt the strong blow connect, two things happened simultaneously. An emergency portkey keyed to Voldemort's conciousness went off, whisking him away, and the spell the other wizard cast ended leaving Harry plainly visible and holding a bloody piece of statuary.

Dumbledore did a double take when his pupil reappeared across the room from his last location. A twinkle lit his eyes as he saw Harry unharmed. "Marvelous! Simply marvelous my dear boy. Care to let an old man in on your secret?"

Harry felt the other presence slide to the back of his mind, whispering a message as it did. "Remember our bargain…"

"My secrets sir? I'm afraid a magician never reveals his tricks. You of all people should know that." Harry squeaked out eventually, not wanting to reveal the source of his sudden power

_The Atrium was full of people; the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin, leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward._

_"He was there!" shouted a scarlet‐robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You‐Know‐Who!"_

_"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge._

_(Order of the Phoenix Chapter 36)_

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It was a very troubled Dumbledore that sat down with Severus Snape the next evening. They had pulled out his pensieve and reviewed the events of the Ministry Battle several times, but they still did not know exactly what Harry had done or how he had done it. Illusions could be done, and invisibility was a neat trick, but Harry had done them without a wand and without anyone noticing it was all a trick. They couldn't see whatever had terrified the Dark Lord, but the fear and revulsion on his face was clear. There was one additional thing that worried Albus.

"Severus, I thought you said that Harry was a complete failure at occlumancy?"

"He is. The boy is completely worthless." The potions master assured him. "What would make you think otherwise?"

"Here, after the battle." Dumbledore paused the projection. "I asked him how he did it. He responds that a good magician never reveals his tricks. I tried to get the truth from him Severus, his mind was solid as a rock and radiating truthfulness."

"Interesting," Snape tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps the boy is still possessed. If the Dark Lord has control of his body he might have staged the rest to lull us into a false sense of security and attack us from within."

The color drained from Dumbledore's face. "The prophecy… Severus we must find out quickly if this is true. We cannot let him leave our sight until we know for certain. We will grab him after the leaving feast in two days and discover the truth."

"I'll bring the Veritaserum."

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Ever since the possession, the other wizard who was sharing Harry's body took over when Harry was asleep or had withdrawn in grief. Most of this time had been spent in the library pouring over tomes and scratching calculations on a piece of parchment. Occasionally Harry would wake up and watch with interest as he ever so carefully wrote and diagramed something into one of the leather bound diaries Harry agreed to let him use. The notes and diaries made no sense whatsoever to Harry, the language was one he didn't know and the diagrams seemed focused on geometry and distances rather than wand movements.

The first diary filled up extremely quickly with all of the spells the wizard already knew and had memorized, but after that it seemed he had to research for several hours and perform several calculations in order to record another spell. From the pace he worked at and the seemingly endless march of spells, Harry had to assume that whoever his guest was, he was a genius. It was more like the wizard was remembering new spells than learning them. Once he discovered how the spell worked, it went into the notebooks of indecipherable text almost immediately.

The morning of the leaving feast, Harry felt his consciousness being shaken awake while his body was still in the library.

"I have need of the items on this list and a laboratory in which to perform my work. See that I have them within the week." His guest commanded as if he were used to being obeyed.

Harry looked down at the parchment he was holding. Surprisingly though it was written in that same bizarre script, he could read it this time. Some of the items on this list were bound to be extremely expensive. There were diamonds and gemstones of exacting specifications and quality, equipment and tools he barely knew of, and a list of potions ingredients and other herb based products a mile long. "I don't recall that being part of the deal. I promised you some time in my body, not access to my family's wealth or to become your servant. You'll have to find some way to do without."

"I need all of those things to build a new body. You will get them for me. I rescued you from certain death and this is how you repay me?" The wizard was getting a little worked up. "It is only because of my respect for our deal that I am not just raping your mind taking what I desire. Do not force me child, I will always get my due."

"Our deal was that you saved me and got to ride around in my skin for a while. If you want me to fetch and carry for you we're going to need a new deal." Harry told him.

"Just what is it you desire? When I have a body again I can afford to be generous, so state your desire. Should I change your body to make you handsome? A witch who you must have? Someone you want me to kill? I can rewrite existence, but only if I can regain my body." Harry felt delicate tendrils of suggestion settle over his mind, encouraging him to choose each option as it was named.

"Teach me." Harry answered simply. "If I am to be at your beck and call, I need to get something in return. I already have a basic education, and you admit I have power, so I would like you to teach me the finesse to go with it. I just learned I have a destiny set in stone for my life, and I mean to fulfill it. No one here can teach me how a dark wizard thinks or how the dark arts work. I need that if I am to survive"

"Ah, so it is knowledge you thirst for. It has been many years since I have had an apprentice, but I will give you just one chance. Bring me these things and I will set you a task. When you have proven your skill with that task I will arrange for a formal Test. If you survive the Test I will take you as my apprentice until you are ready or prove incompetent."

"What do you mean, 'If you survive the test.'? Just what kind of test is this?"

"The Test is what distinguishes a wizard doing parlor tricks from a Mage devoting his life to magic. If you want to wave your silly wand and shoot beams of light at your opponents then I have nothing to teach you, but if you wish to discover what magic truly is then you must pass the Test. No two Mage's Tests are the same, but they always test your knowledge of spells, ability to think on your own, how you handle a situation without magic, and your dedication to your art. Success means an entry into the mysteries of magic at it's finest. Failure means death."

"And what is the task I must do first?" Harry asked, hoping to avoid talking about fatal tests for a moment.

"I will give you five spells for you to learn. From what I have seen these last days, and from the power I know you possess, you should be able to cast them. You will fail as a Mage if simple things like a language you don't know or arcane script prevent you from learning. You must also be able to see magic if you are to understand it. These spells will allow you to read or speak any language even that of magic, and to see magic as it lies on objects, locations, or people."

"I will not fail." Harry vowed. "So do we have a deal? I will help you regain your body and get your supplies in exchange for my apprenticeship?"

"We have a deal." The other replied with a mental handshake. "Do not make me regret this child."

"I won't sir. By the way, now that I am to be your apprentice you really should tell me your name." Harry observed.

"I am Raistlin Majere, but you will address me as Master until I tell you otherwise." He answered before fading into the background and leaving Harry to consider how he was going to get everything on the list.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was walking down the hall after the leaving feast with Ron and Hermione, who were just released from the hospital wing, when he was hit from behind with a stunning spell. There was a brief moment of darkness and he toppled forward before he felt magic rushing through him to reawaken him and a translucent suit of armor made of magic enveloped him in its blue glow. Harry caught himself as he was about to hit the ground and rolled forward past his friends. He leaped to his feet and spun around wand in hand. He could not see anyone else in the corridor, but he knew someone had attacked him. His friends drew their wands as well and turned to help. 

"Accio Cloak!" Hermione called, and a moment later an invisibility cloak flew to her hands revealing Professor Snape standing in the hallway.

"Help me, you don't understand…" Snape began, but had to stop as the spells started flying.

Ron immediately cast a stunning spell of his own while Harry shot a reductor curse at the ground in front of him. Snape dodged the stunner easily but had to hastily erect a shield to protect himself from the rock fragments. Hermione cast a disarming charm of her own at the same time Ron cast his second stunner. Harry shot a fast moving percussion hex to break the shield. Again Snape easily dodged but instead of another shield he sent a trip jinx at the three teens.

Harry easily jumped over the low flying line of magic while the other two shielded against it. "Two can play that game, Accio Boots!"

Given that there was nothing to dodge; Snape went down flat on his back as his feet were yanked from under him. Twenty years experience as a Death Eater however meant that though he was down he was by no means out. A vicious cutting curse flashed from his wand and Harry had to dodge. The tailing edge of it still managed to slice a wicked gash in his cheek. Hermione cast a binding spell to wrap the potions professor in ropes, but it only managed to grab his legs as Snape rolled away. Another cutting curse freed him and went rocketing towards Ron who fell flat on his face trying to dodge.

Harry had just about enough of this nonsense. A person ought to be safe from attack in his own school. "Accio Testicles!" He called, pointing towards his opponent.

Snape let out an incredibly loud and girly scream as sensitive parts of his anatomy tried to answer Harry's call. Hermione took pity upon him and stunned him while Ron winced and placed a body bind on the man.

"Harry, what did he do to deserve that?" Ron asked. "I know he cursed you when your back was turned, insulted you for the last five years, and just made you bleed, but that was just plain mean!"

"I really don't see what was so wrong with it. It made the Professor stop fighting." Hermione observed. "What's more important is why was he attacking Harry in the first place? And why did he expect us to help?"

"You wouldn't understand Hermione, it's a guy thing. I don't know what he was trying to pull, but I'm going to find out. Lets take him to Dumbledore and get some answers." Harry began rifling through Snape's pockets looking for a second wand or any portkeys. Tucked into his belt, Harry found a small bottle of a colorless, perfectly clear liquid with a dropper. Looking over his shoulder he saw that Ron and Hermione were arguing about whether or not it was ok to attack a professor if he shot first, so he quickly pocketed the potion he suspected to be Veritaserum. Snape had threatened to use it on him before, and it appeared to be the same bottle.

Harry tossed Ron Snape's wand and the second wand he had found in the professor's boot before levitating the professor and pushing him before them through the halls. Ron and Hermione trailed behind him as they walked through the deserted halls around the Headmaster's office. Coming to the guardian statue Ron and Hermione began listing sweets trying to get the password but Harry held up his hand to stop them. He pointed his wand at the gargoyle and gathered his magical strength, fueled by righteous anger and stress. "Move."

Both his friends and the gargoyle leapt out of the way given his tone. Harry maneuvered Snape's floating body up the stairs and banged his fist quite hard against the door at the top.

"Come in Severus." Dumbledore called. "Did you get Potter?"

"No he didn't," Harry answered, pushing the door open. "Is there anything you'd like to explain _Professor_?"

Hermione looked shocked and deeply betrayed when they pushed Snape into the room. Professor Snape they could understand, it was no secret he hated Harry and they all knew he was a Death Eater, but Dumbledore was supposed to be _good_.

Dumbledore didn't even flinch as they took seats in front of the desk and Harry put Snape on a nearby couch. "Harry, so good to see you got my message. I just sent Severus to look for you."

"Just what were your instructions, precisely?" Harry asked without sounding too angry. "I think something got misinterpreted along the line because Snape attacked me when my back was turned, and from under an invisibility cloak."

Hermione tossed the cloak onto the desk as proof. "And he even tried to convince us to help him attack Harry."

Ron didn't have anything to add, but his facial expression clearly showed where his loyalties lay. Dumbledore calmly picked up the cloak and stored it away in a draw before turning back to his students. "I merely asked Severus to escort you to my office for a talk. I didn't know he would attempt such measures to bring you here, but now that you are here I have something to discuss with you privately so if your friends do not mind…"

"No." Harry told him. "I'd really prefer that they stayed. I'm going to tell them everything anyway, and right now I don't exactly trust the man who ordered me attacked. So why don't you just go ahead and speak your piece?"

Dumbledore became much sterner before continuing, "Alright then Mr. Potter, if that is who you really are, I wanted you here because of what happened at the ministry. You exhibited several skills that have never been taught here at Hogwarts, and the ease with which you apparently repelled the Dark Lord gives me pause."

Harry mentally reached out to shake his master's presence awake. 'The Headmaster is suspicious of us' he thought while out loud he answered, "Just what are you trying to imply?"

'Evade him,' Raistlin commanded. 'Consider this a test. A dark wizard does not involve himself unless there is something to be gained. You stand to lose if he is suspicious, so you must assuage his fears and pretend that nothing is out of the ordinary.'

"Stop pretending Tom, leave this boy alone! There is nothing to be gained by this masquerade." Ron and Hermione recoiled in horror at the possibility that Harry was being possessed.

"I am not possessed Headmaster, and I am surprised you think I might be. Tell me professor, if Voldemort was in my body during the fight, then who was in his? We both saw him try to kill me, and even cast the killing curse repeatedly." Harry tried to point out the logical impossibility.

"Maybe so, but there is still the matter of your impressive display of magic. Do you have some convenient and quick answer for that?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Headmaster, you were the one who told me the prophecy in the first place. 'But he shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' You were the one who told me I have a strange and unknown power, and now you question me about how it's done? What part of strange and unknown did you not understand when you explained this to me?" Harry asked with some heat. He then turned to his friends. "That's right by the way, it's him or me in the end. Don't you hate divination?"

"Well… I…" Dumbledore was at a loss for words. He wasn't coming out on top of this encounter and that worried him. "I am very concerned about you Harry."

"That's no excuse to be rude. If you were worried about me being possessed or turning dark you should have just asked. Besides, do you honestly think Hermione would let me begin practicing dark magic and still associate with me? And that's assuming she doesn't run straight to a professor to report it at the first sign of trouble. I am in no danger Professor." Harry rose to his feet while Hermione blushingly nodded.

Harry walked over to Snape's bound and unconscious form. Harry quickly woke him up, but left the bindings in place. Motioning to Ron, Harry retrieved his wands and held them in front of Snape's eyes. "Never attack an opponent when his back is turned. The next time you so much as look at me funny I will make you wish I would hurry up and kill you." Harry snapped both wands in one movement and let the pieces fall onto Snape's chest.

The three friends swept themselves out of the Headmaster's office even angrier than they had entered.

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The train ride back to London was not too remarkable. Draco Malfoy tried to harass Harry and his friends, but Harry couldn't even draw his wand before Malfoy and his goons fell in a hail of curses. At the station Moody, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley threatened his uncle before they were allowed to leave. Harry let the Order watch him get into the car and drive away from the station before he spoke to his uncle.

"Uncle Vernon, If you drop me off at the nearest tube station, you'll never see me again." Harry told him.

"You ungrateful little brat, why did you make me come all the way up here if you were not coming back? I had better things to do today, and there is a tube station right there in Kings Cross."

"I didn't know I wouldn't be returning until yesterday morning and had no way to inform you without using that _unnatural_ mail of ours. If it's any consolation, those Freaks back at the train station will be very upset with me."

"Good riddance to you then. Finally you can go bother someone else with your freakishness, but I'll warn you. Once you step foot out of this car, you will never be welcome in my home again. You leave now and no amount of begging, even from the bloody Queen herself, will make me take you back. You are no relative of ours and there is no place for you in our home." His uncle gave Harry a stern glare through the rearview mirror.

After a few blocks, the car rolled to a stop and Harry heard the boot pop open. Harry got out of the car without a word of goodbye and grabbed his trunk from the boot. As soon as Harry slammed the lid, Vernon sped off back into traffic. Harry was immensely grateful that he had the forethought to cast a feather-light charm on his trunk before stepping off the train and back into the world where his magic was forbidden. He hoisted the trunk and Hedwig's cage and turned to find out where he was exactly. Spotting the sign, Harry almost doubled over laughing. He was at Mornington Crescent, and if the wireless was to be believed he could literally get anywhere in the world from this point. He idly wondered if there wasn't some Wizarding travel center hidden somewhere in the station. If there wasn't, there should be.

Foregoing the mythical travel rules heard on the radio, Harry paid the fare and waited for the train to show up. The Northern Line, he was pleased to discover, ran not only through Mornington Crescent, but also Kings Cross and had a station on Charing Cross Road not far from the Leaky Cauldron which was his eventual destination. The train came along right on schedule and he soon found himself a bare block and a half from the Cauldron. He dropped his trunk and Hedwig at the Cauldron and hurried off to take care of business in the alley before everyone closed for the day.

The first stop was Gringotts Bank. Harry filled three sacks with galleons and set them near the door so he could examine a few of the heirlooms stashed in the back of the vault. In the summer before his third year he had been surprised to find that money was not the only thing in his vault. There was a small box of the family jewelry that he ignored, a few portraits who were too old or obscure to be featured in the home, a small set of magical arms and armor, and the cabinet that contained the most important business papers like stock certificates and the deed to the family home. Harry searched for the papers to his parents house, but all the deed said was "Potter Family Home, Godrics Hollow, Scotland." There was no address listed, and no further hint of where it was.

"Excuse me Griphook," Harry stuck his head back out of the vault and addressed the goblin who brought him down. "I'm having a bit of trouble here. I don't suppose you could tell me where in the world Godrics Hollow is? The deed to the property doesn't say."

"My name is Grapnold, not Griphook!" The goblin yelled at him. "We are a bank not a travel service. Buy a map if you need to know where something is. Now hurry up, time is money and I won't waste anymore on you."

Harry obediently grabbed his bags of money from beside the door and took the cart back to the surface. He flipped a galleon over his shoulder as an apology for the mistake before walking out of the bank.

It turned out that the trip to the apothecary was not nearly as bad as Harry was expecting. For all the list of herbs, ingredients, and supplies was long most of the items were fairly cheap and in good supply. He picked up everything he could and made it out only spending about twenty galleons, and headed for the jewelers. The sales clerk was very understanding when he explained he needed unset gems for a magical experiment along with the rest of his order. Harry picked out four small diamonds, three rubies, four strings of black pearls, a man's ring with a small emerald, three pendants in various styles, and a large block of uncut jade. The tally came to just over fifteen hundred galleons, a price Harry balked at and the clerk shuddered in joy for her commission.

Harry looked at his watch and saw that he only had a few more minutes before the shops closed so he hurried off to Flourish and Blot's for a searchable atlas of the British Isles and Ireland and a book on apparition theory and practice. His master had agreed to provide transportation for a few days, but he stressed that Harry would have to get by on his own very quickly.

Sitting down outside Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, Harry sipped a butterbeer and opened the atlas. Searches for Godrics Hollow as a city, town, or village all turned up no results when set to search both magical and muggle maps. Likewise no results came up when he searched for it as a subdivision of a larger town. It was only after he searched for landmarks that he had any success. Located in the mountains to the northwest of the Forbidden Forest, there was a bowl shaped valley with a small lake under a waterfall. Only a few miles away, there was a small muggle village just across the mountain. The location was close enough to Hogsmeade and Hogwarts that they were only a short broom flight or apparition jump away, but the Forest and mountains hid it rather well from everyone. Harry pushed himself to the background and let his master take over as they studied the map and surrounding area.

00000

Without a sound Harry and his master landed in Godrics Hollow and inspected their new home. The Hollow itself was barely under a kilometer in diameter and almost perfectly round. The area was lightly wooded with native trees and seemed to have a preponderance of songbirds. Behind a low ridge, Harry could see the Forbidden Forest, and presumable he would see Hogwarts from the top of that ridge. In the north east quarter a small spring tumbled over a twenty meter cliff into the small pond. What was once a comfortable looking house sat on the edge of the pond, fifteen years of neglect and natural weather had wreaked havoc on his family's home. From his view point he could see that the roof had been blasted out from an enormous whole on the second floor.

Approaching the house Harry damned the Dursleys for never coming here. His family's history and heirlooms left exposed to the elements for fifteen years because they hated his parents and refused to salvage their belongings. The front door was splinters and a few inches of board that clung to the hinges. Lichen and mold had creeped into the front parlor and throughout the first floor. It was obvious that at some point animals had been in the house and in each of the open rooms. Most of the rooms were a total write off, and the second floor contained rot and water damage in addition to the mold and mildew that pervaded the home. The family library on the first floor was still closed when Harry tried to force the door. The door's handle was frozen, or perhaps locked, so Harry put his shoulder into it and the door split just after the latch mechanism and swung free. The library was comparatively intact. There were obvious leaks in the ceiling and the carpet still destroyed, but the charms on the bookcases to repel paper eating insects had apparently held. Many of the books were water damaged, but it was possible that some of them could be saved.

The best room for Harry's immediate needs was the basement. Through some strange, and probably magical, part of the home's design, the cellar was dry and whole. The spider webs were horrendous but Harry knew how to deal with them. Spider webs and cobwebs were not only gossamer and sticky, but also highly flammable. Harry pulled a Zippo lighter and his cologne from his trunk. With a spritz and a WHOOSH, a wave of flames spread across the cellar as the webs caught and burned in an instant.

Holding up a rough torch of a piece of the front door wrapped in one of Dudley's old shirts with a little cologne for an easy light, Harry explored the basement. There were a few trunks that had survived, and Harry looked forward to exploring those later. For now he had somewhere dry and after he collected some dead wood, it was warm too. In time, magic could be used to fix most things. He would never recover the priceless history of the home, but with a little elbow grease and diligence he could have a home of his own. He vowed to visit the muggle village across the mountain in the morning for food and supplies, but for tonight it was enough to be on his own for the first time in his life.

00000

When Raistlin woke up that evening for his turn to use the body, he looked around and quickly decided that this state of affairs was unacceptable. While he had been a mercenary for several years and lived off the land in that time, an abandoned and run down home was no place for a magical laboratory. He was pleased that Harry had made an effort to purchase everything on his list and taken steps to get his own transportation and living space, and so decided to begin the magic lessons early. They would deal with the living situation later.

After casting a spell on Harry to allow him to read his journals, Raistlin began his instruction on how to read magical notations and what the spells meant. "The first spell you will be learning is one to prevent others from using divining powers against you. Divination is far from an art used solely for discovering the future. It can also be used to tell you the present, and what people are doing. You have told me that the government seeks to keep track of wizards by monitoring the use of magic across the kingdom. This is an example of divination being used to tell someone what is happening and where. Once you have mastered this, you will be required to take a more active role in your lessons. The second spell you will learn is the one I have just cast on you to allow you to read my spell books. Magic is a language of its own and once you learn it you will be crafting your own spell book for your studies. A wizard must write his own spell books, and he is the only one who will be able to read them without the use of this spell. Now, examine the diagram beneath this spell and listen to me closely as I explain how this details your somatic movements…"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer, no money is being made and no trademark/copyright infringement is intended.

00000

The next day, Raistlin began to correct the living situation. After consulting with Harry, they agreed that the house itself was not worth the effort of saving. It was damaged, un-secure, lacked workspace, and easily destroyed. It might have once been a fine home for a small family, but it was not suitable for their purposes.

Standing near the center of the Hollow, Raistlin moved Harry's arms and began a longwinded chant while sprinkling sand, clay, and rich topsoil in an elaborate pattern. Harry began to feel the earth beneath his feet vibrate slightly. The vibration turned into a full fledged tremor, then into an earthquake. The soil moved like jelly and began to flow away from him. The trees and plants which were rooted in the soil were dragged along with them. An area nearly one hundred feet in all directions was now perfectly level and free of overgrowth while beyond that the excess earth had formed a steep wall-like hill.

With another spell, a ring of dark grey granite fifty feet in diameter and ten feet high sprang up from the ground. Another soon joined it, resting on top of the first but slightly smaller than the one below it. Within the next two hours, something vaguely resembling a tower began to rise above Godrics Hollow. Stone floors were inserted between levels, but no stairwells or windows marred the pillar of stone. It was three levels high before Raistlin switched spells. He placed his hand against the stone and Harry could feel it flowing like water. With the guidance of his hands, the stone changed from a seamless and solid wall into a graceful archway with the extra stone thickening to form a doorframe. From the inside Harry could guess that the walls were only an inch or two thick which might explain how his master was able to conjure so much of it. With a flick of his wrist and a muttered command, a hole five feet across was blown through all three stories, leaving the surrounding stone completely unharmed. Harry definitely wanted to know that spell.

Stepping back, Raistlin leaned against a tree while a multitude of invisible minions began dismantling the Potter home brick by brick. A steady line of bricks flowing between the structures was the only thing that betrayed their presence. Inside the tower, a circular staircase was slowly being built.

Over the next several days the tower grew at an amazing pace. Eventually the swarms of invisible minions ran out of bricks and blocks of stone from the surrounding mountains were used. The need to quarry the stones with magic slowed the pace of construction by a bit. Harry was tasked with making the inside livable and salvaging the Potter house. The library was dried and repaired as best as he could before being moved to the basement, the only permanent part of the house that would survive. He also managed to save a few photographs and possessions that were not affected by the years. The rest was regrettably used as fuel for the fires that provided Raistlin illumination for his nightly studies and Harry warmth while he slept.

00000 THREE WEEKS LATER

Harry looked at the calculations in front of him. When his master had ordered him to research Creation and Destruction, he had expected to find a very simple truth that they were opposites and incompatible. Instead, he found nearly the opposite. He had done the math several times and could no longer avoid it. Creations was Destruction and vice versa. If something were created, something else was destroyed. Paper was made from dead trees. Wool socks from dead hair, which was made from dead plants, which were nourished by something else. Conversely when you destroyed one thing, it created and freed resources for something else.

In death there was life. Only someone who had suffered could feel the joy from its ceasing. Only someone who understood pain could heal it. And only someone who knew the dark arts could defeat them. If he was to preserve life, he needed to study death. It was this discovery that settled him on his course of action. While Raistlin had been giving him a few spells every week to study on top of his duties, Harry had outright refused to study those spells which Raistlin classified as Necromancy. The vast majority of the spells focused on draining his enemies of power to enhance his own, something Harry found repulsive because of its potential for abuse, but there were also those he learned that could save someone from the very brink of death and drag them back into the land of the living. It certainly didn't help that the cruciatus and killing curse would both be classified in this category. Now that he understood the ways death and life were connected, Harry realized that there was no reason to avoid this branch of magic. He was going to have to kill Voldemort and some of the death eaters anyway, he might as well profit from their deaths. By killing death eaters he could ensure that the good people could flourish.

Learning the new spells his master assigned was alternately a joy and a royal pain in the arse. For some of the spells he could see a direct correlation to something he already knew. For those he treated the need for herbal components and hand gestures as if they were just an alternate incantation for the same effect. Other spells were harder to visualize and wrap his mind around so the magic did not flow from his bare fingers as easily it did for the others. For a short while he kept his wand in his hand when he practiced these spells, but when his master reviewed his progress one evening he was instantly berated as if a perfectly healthy man using a crutch to walk. It wasn't easy, but he eventually understood those spells and was getting faster with them all the time as he learned to force his magic out of his body for those spells.

00000

Harry set aside his research and decided it was time for his spell practice. He climbed the stairs to the top of the tower. The construction had stopped at five levels, with a practice area on the roof. The bottom floor contained the kitchen, bathroom, and guest area. The water was magically connected to the lake, and the sewer to a section of a mountain that had been hollowed out like a large septic tank. The second floor contained living quarters for up to five people and a small common area. The third floor contained the library of books both recovered and newly purchased. The fourth was a workroom where Harry would eventually learn to enchant items with his spells and currently brewed potions. The fifth floor Harry was forbidden from entering, it was Raistlin's own room for experiments and study. Given the size of the tower, there was plenty of room to grow in the library and workroom.

Coming to the roof, Harry stretched and warmed up a bit. Sometimes a good practice required that he move quickly and suddenly to avoid a mishap, so he found a thorough stretch helpful. Pushups and conjuring weights to lift were a mandatory part of his warm up exercises. For some reason his master seemed to be obsessed that Harry make his body as strong and healthy as possible. It was as if even the thin and underweight body he had from years of living with the Dursleys was a gift from the gods that he could not possibly appreciate. At least that's what Harry could discern from the endless rants about his laziness and eating habits. Fortunately his study habits had improved to a bare minimum level. Having someone in your head who never stopped nagging could be very annoying.

He started off slow, shooting a few flames from his hands and summoning up a thick fog to obscure his movements. Soon he moved on to conjuring a flight of arrows and shooting a cone of bright multicolored lights that would confuse an enemy. With a flick of his fingers, ground mica flakes shot from his sleeves, reflecting the already bright lights with blinding brilliance. If there were anyone hiding invisibly they would be covered in the reflective dust. Harry then threw coal dust into the air and blanketed the area in perfect darkness to kill the lights. Wrapping the magic of the air in just the right patterns, seven illusory copies of himself formed a circle on the top of the tower.

Pulling out some of his newest spells, Harry sent a small ball of fire rolling towards the illusion based targets. He couldn't cast a properly explosive ball of fire yet, but Raistlin said that it was in the next batch of spells he would be given to copy and learn. The flaming ball he now controlled was useful in its own right however since he could control its movements and it lasted a full minute which was an eternity in battle. He focused his mind to cast a second spell but ended up losing control of both. He had to throw himself to the side as the lightning bolt he was trying to throw at one of the copies shot down to where he had been standing. The flaming ball dissolved into a sticky flaming liquid that covered part of the tower. A sprinkling of water left his fingertips and a heavy driving rain mixed with sleet began to fall, extinguishing the fires and washing away the still glittering dust. Now soaked to the bone and cold, Harry decided his short practice was done for the moment and went inside to change clothes.

00000

Harry was awakened in great pain that night. He struggled to regain control but his master clamped down on his mind with the ease of long practice. He was not even allowed to see what was going on. A second burst of pain struck his left arm just below the first. The sensation of being stabbed with a knife continued along with a great deal more pain as the knife cut and sawed through his flesh. The knife left him, but Harry felt fingers reach into his wound and there was a terrible twisting and pulling sensation. From far off, Harry could hear something, but he was unable to make out the words or even the language. Several minutes later the speaking stopped and Harry felt something cold and refreshing splash on his arm over the area he had been stabbed. His pain grew less and there was a familiar itching that Harry associated with skelegrow. When the itching and pins-and-needles feelings ended he could again almost hear something. Warmth flared in that area of his arm and Harry felt the vice like grip on his mind lessen.

Pushing himself forward into control, Harry immediately looked down at his arm and nearly fainted at what he saw. His flesh had been cut away and removed from his arm, the sunken area forming an hourglass shape. This resemblance was only heightened by the fact that he now bore a tattoo of an hourglass with the sand half fallen. "YOU MARKED ME?" Harry screamed out loud as if he were speaking to someone who was physically present.

"I will need a way to call my apprentice. My mark will allow me to send you a summons from anywhere in the world." He heard in his mind.

"Why the bloody hell would you need to call me?" Harry raged. "I'm right freaking here! There's no where I can go!"

"Look at the tank." His master commanded.

Harry finally examined the room he was in, Raistlin's lab and the repository of most of the money he had spent in the past month. Right beside him there was a tall glass cylinder filled with a slightly murky water that just radiated magic. Floating inside Harry could see the sections of flesh and skin that had been ripped from his arm. The water was much murkier around those pieces. "What's this?"

"I am growing my new body. It will be fully grown in a month or two and then I will leave your body. I have only reconstructed the barest parts of my spell books here and at that school. I will need to travel to find something to help me recover the other spells or at least give me a place to start rediscovering them. When I am in the area I will call to you and test your skills and give you new assignments." His master explained.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Harry demanded. "I thought you were going to teach me, that was part of our deal."

"I only have so many spells for you to learn at the moment until I rebuild my spell book. You may do whatever you wish while I travel the world but I would recommend that you return to your school."

"Why would I do something like that? Not only am I hated and constantly belittled, but they do not teach me the things I need to know. You've taught me more battle magic than they ever did. The best they taught me could only be considered an annoyance in a real fight."

Harry's arm came up and slapped him across the face. "Not only do they have a better library than you could ever hope to amass, and can still teach you magic that isn't battle oriented, but they would never expect it. There are two types of dark wizards. There are the subtle and the dead. Let us assume that you return to that school and do everything they ask of you. You are polite, and try to help them in every way. They will never suspect you of turning evil."

"But I am not turning evil." Harry protested.

"No, you're just defying authority, striving for complete independence, and studying to commit murder." Raistlin replied sarcastically. "Of course they will think you were turning evil. That's why you need to act as if nothing happened. You will exploit them for everything they can give you and offer nothing in return. You will beg for extra lessons in the subjects that interest you. You tell me they regard you as a hero, so why not take advantage of it? Milk them for all they are worth."

"I don't want to go back." Harry sulked.

"Too bad. If you do not go back you will lose all of the allies you have gained. That old man who runs your school will want you back and some place he can see you. Fighting it will give you a war on two fronts. As I said, it is your choice but things will be much harder for you if you do not. Now shut up and go back to sleep, I have work to do."

00000 A FEW DAYS LATER (July 20th)

Something was wrong. Harry was groggy and he couldn't think, but he could still tell something was wrong. With a start Harry realized what it was, he was alone in his mind. He shook himself awake only to realize what else was wrong; he was tied down to a bed. He rarely woke up in a bed anymore since his master took over his body while he slept, and never tied down. He could hear voices nearby and strained to hear what was going on.

"You have done well my servant. You not only brought me Potter, but his friends as well." Voldemort's high cold voice said. "You have pleased me and as a reward I will grant you one request."

"Give me the Lovegood girl. I want to see if she can live up to her name before the men ruin her." Said a voice Harry knew all too well.

"WEASLEY!" He yelled. "You backstabbing traitor, just wait until I get off this bed. You are a dead man Weasley, a dead man!" With a strength born of murderous hatred and just a touch of magic, Harry utterly destroyed the restraints holding him down. The door burst open at his screams and the Dark Lord walked in accompanied by his former friend.

"Look at this, the great Harry Potter, trapped without a wand." Ron taunted.

"Crucio!" the Dark Lord hissed and sent the red spell Harry's way.

Pain overwhelmed Harry. Pure, ending, always fresh, and constantly changing pain washed over every inch of his body. Harry writhed, but refused to scream. Soon, he knew, the pain would end. While they stopped to gloat, he would strike. He could still feel the glass rod in his pocket and knew that if that was there then his piece of silk would be too.

The pain lessened and Harry seized the moment. He ripped the rod and silk from his pocket, pointed them at the Dark Lord and wiped the rod furiously. "Blitzstrum!" He yelled. The lightning bolt arced from his fingertips and caught Voldemort full in the face. The lightning continued to arc as Voldemort fell towards the floor.

Harry stood on shaky legs while staring Ron in the eyes, daring him to curse him or even try running. He walked up to him and held his right hand in front of his face. He closed his fist, but left his middle and index finger curled as if the teeth of a viper. He closed his eyes for a moment to focus before his arm shot out and struck the side of Ron's neck. Energy and life flowed into Harry as he watched Ron whither and grow old before his time. All his aches and pains vanished as he stole the vitality of a man he would have called a brother. Harry snatched the wand from Voldemort's hand and stunned Ron. It fit just as well as his own.

Looking at the barely living form of his now second most hated enemy, Harry had to stop to decide what to do with him. Voldemort was completely at his mercy. Should he kill him quickly, slowly and painfully, or perhaps turn him over to the Ministry? No, the prophecy was clear, only he could kill Voldemort and if he had learned anything it was to never gloat to or torture someone you really intended to kill. That was how he always escaped after all. A quick Killing Curse took care of the important bit before Harry turned his attention to Ron. Now Ron was non-essential. If Harry didn't kill him, someone else would eventually and anybody could take care of him. That meant it was ok to torture the little fuck, after he rescued the others.

Floating the traitor in front of him as he walked down the hall, he could faintly hear screams of pain nearby. As he got closer, the screams became louder and someone could be heard cackling. Bursting into the room, Harry saw Neville on the ground in front of Bellatrix Lestrange while the others were in a small cage in the corner.

Harry shot an entrails expelling curse at her which she managed to dodge. She shot a cutting curse at him which he blocked easily. With a shout Harry brought both hands together as if shaping a snow ball, sweat glistening on his face as he strained his magic to make it happen as he wanted. The air around Bellatrix seemed to shimmer before crystallizing in like a faceted sphere around her. He enervated Neville and released Hermione, Ginny, and Luna from their cage. Hermione found everyone's wands.

"What do you say Neville, do you want the honor or should I deal with her?" Harry pointed to the entrapped Bellatrix. "She can't get out but our spells will go in."

"I think we should both take care of her." Neville didn't need to specify how. "On three."

Together Harry and Neville cast the cruciatus and Harry found within himself the hatred and sadistic pleasure needed to make it work. They tortured her until she tore her vocal cords from screaming too much. Her mind was undoubtedly gone but neither boy cared much. Eventually she began frothing at the mouth, a bloody froth from burst blood vessels in her throat and lungs. When she finally died, the curse ended, having nothing left to torture.

"What about HIM?" Neville pointed at Ron and spoke with pure loathing for the man who betrayed them both.

"He's mine. It's going to take him a very long time to die." Harry responded with a grin that was pure evil. Reminded of his presence, Harry reached out and stole some more of his life force as a pick me up before casting the few healing charms he knew from Hogwarts on his friends.

Grabbing his friends, Harry spoke one last spell "Telus Arcanum" and teleported them all back to his tower. Over the next several days screams could be heard from Harry's rooms as Ron learned what awaited betrayers in the lowest circle of hell, and Harry learned exactly what all of those necromancy spells his master wanted him to learn did. Before teleporting himself and his friends to the ministry, Harry dosed Ron with a slow acting poison Raistlin had left him. He would live just long enough to see a trial, and he was assured there was no antidote.

00000

Harry awoke with a start, he was sweating torrents and kneeling naked in the middle of his master's private workroom. A set of black robes like he had first seen Raistlin wearing when they met lay folded neatly in front of him.

"Are you sure you are not evil?" His master asked jokingly.

"What are you talking about?"

"You have passed the Test and are now a full fledged Mage of the Black Robes. There was always a way out that did not require evil acts, yet with the possible exceptions of rescuing your friends and killing that Dark Poser quickly and painlessly, you chose the most painful and evil methods to accomplish your ends." Raistlin explained.

"That was the Test? You mean none of that was real?" Harry asked with shock. "Why would you make me believe my best friend betrayed me?"

"I did not create the Test. I merely set it in motion. The Test is created from your subconscious hopes and fears. It measures your strength of will and dedication to the magical arts. You saw your friend betray you because you secretly fear and believe that he could. Your style of vigilante justice, taken by those who were wronged and through violent magic showed your dedication to selfishness and anger, rather than the community and peace. Rise and claim your Robes my apprentice."


	4. Chapter 4

00000 July 30 Eleven PM

"Welcome my loyal Death Eaters," Voldemort hissed as a series of pops announced the arrival of the last of his minions. He stood in the middle of a great stone cavern, the light of seven torches set in a circle serving only to enhance the oppressive atmosphere of gloom created by stalactites hanging from the ceiling. "A few days ago, my spies in the ministry reported several bursts of magic in the area called Godrics Hollow. Officially no one has lived there since the Potter's were killed, but Wormtail discretely snooped around and found my nemesis Harry Potter living alone and unprotected in the Hollow. The boy-who-ran-away hasn't even bothered to place the most basic of wards to protect himself."

Behind his mask, Severus Snape silently cursed. The Order had been discretely searching for Potter since he disappeared in muggle London, but there had been no leads. Apparently they were looking in the wrong place. Who would have guessed that he would have returned to the scene of his parents' murder?

"I have decided that you will all join me as I destroy that brat once and for all," the Dark Lord tried to rile his Death Eaters to a killing frenzy. "Together we shall raze Godrics Hollow to the ground and show the ministry and the whole Wizarding world that we cannot be defeated! Tonight shall usher in a new age. Through the death of Harry Potter the hopes and dreams of the pathetic sheep will be crumbled. With Potter gone, only Dumbledore stands between us and victory! He is only one man, no matter how powerful. We attack at midnight, and bring the boy savior a birthday surprise the world will never forget."

The Death Eaters sent up a feral cheer and several shot sparks into the air. Fires were lit and bottles of wine and whiskey were passed around as the Death Eaters began a revel in anticipation of that night's inevitably successful raid. Someone charmed a drum rhythm to play and the fires to flare in tempo. The mood started as one of anticipation, but as more and more people were dragged into the celebration, a mentality of violence and sadism began to prevail. The frenzy built and built, the blood lust of the Death Eaters growing with every passing moment. Muggle children were dragged screaming from further back in the cave. The glee and sadistic pleasure of their tormentors served only to make them scream louder which increased their captors' lust in turn.

With a cackling laugh, Voldemort joined the Dark Revel. He leveled his wand at a pretty blonde girl who couldn't have been five years old, just barely old enough to understand the horrors she was seeing. "Crucio!"

00000

With a scream of helplessness and pain, Harry seized control of his body and immediately wretched on the floor. The pain and fear in that young girls eyes as Voldemort towered over her made Harry physically ill. He felt the revulsion ease and was able to focus on the most important point that he had learned. "Voldemort and the Death Eaters are coming."

"So deal with them." Raistlin replied. "You will not surrender this tower by running. My work is too important."

"I can't take on all of the Death Eaters and Voldemort too! There's at least seventy or eighty of them coming tonight." Harry was panicking.

Raistlin made a noise that indicated he was thinking. "How long do you have until they arrive?"

Harry consulted his watch. "Less than an hour. If it were one or two I could handle it. Five or six would worry me. Seventy or eighty is insane. No one could stand against that number and expect to win."

"How big a part of his army is this? Will everyone be here tonight or is this a small raiding party?" His master asked, ignoring the numbers.

"I don't know!" Harry shouted. His arm slapped him harshly across the face. "Maybe half? I think he's bringing those who are rank and file. His closest advisors don't need the morale boost that killing me will bring."

"He must respect you then, to bring half of his forces out to kill one man." Raistlin theorized. Scribbling a list of nonsensical numbers and odd notations on a scrap piece of paper, Harry could feel his master smile. "We'll just have to kill them all. That's really too bad. Nothing irritates an evil mastermind than killing his servants. They seem to take it personally."

Harry began to settle down. If Raistlin had enough of a plan to return to his sarcastic humor then things just might work out. He retorted with a line that always seemed to generate the most interesting stories, "That almost sounds as if you are speaking from experience."

Harry could feel sadistic joy well up in his mind as his master had a small flashback. "Fear and power are the only things these idiots will understand, so we will just have to give them something to fear. This Voldemort will be angry and blame everyone around him, but his real problem lies in that he cannot allow anyone to become better than him. He wants to feel as if he is in charge. If you deny him that power, he will become irrational. I do so love watching a man's dreams crushed."

00000

Severus Snape was having a really bad night. Not only did he despise the revels, but he could not make an excuse and leave to warn Dumbledore. If Potter really was hiding in Godrics Hollow, he was a dead man. The Order would never trust him if he stood by and allowed their Golden Boy to be hunted like a dog, and Voldemort would kill him slowly if he tried to leave and warn them. All he could do was tapping the emergency code on the Order insignia sewn to the inside of his pocket. Unless this cavern had been shielded somehow, at least they would know something big was about to happen.

Perhaps in the fury of battle Snape could arrange to fall against the boy wonder and have an emergency portkey trip. He would have Potter curse him and leave him there while he escaped. Allowing the brat to escape would surely mean punishment for his failure, but if he wanted to survive this war he needed the Order. He had long ago heard Voldemort promise Lucius Malfoy that as soon as they secured victory, he would be allowed to kill him. That was why he started spying for Dumbledore in the first place. It wasn't some twisted sense of idealism or remorse, just pure survival instinct.

Spotting a break in the crowds, Snape sunk back into the darkness of the cave and tried to circle back to the apparition point. He carefully avoided the notice of the common foot soldiers and medium ranked Death Eaters who were looking to drag stragglers back into the revel.

It was as if they could diffuse the horrors they would commit by being only one of a faceless mob and so sought to surround themselves with savages and brutes. Most of them did not truly have the stomach for the Dark Lord's forces. They agreed with the goal and loved the promise of power, but deep down they were scared shitless. So few of them loved the savage brutality that came with being on the front lines. Ironically, those that did enjoy the sadistic acts and murder were promoted to the upper echelons where they rarely saw any action. By the time Severus arrived at the scene of a raid, everyone had been defeated and they were just playing with the survivors. Torturing a muggle whose spirit was already broken was just not the same as watching them go from defiance and anger all the way into that submissive fear.

Alas, Severus' escape was not to be. When he got to the apparition point, Voldemort was just arriving as well. He could not just leave while being watched by his master.

"Exciting isn't it Severus?" Voldemort gestured to what was left of the evening's entertainment. Most of the muggles had died by now, but there were a few who were unlucky enough to be captured by the more "creative" Death Eaters and were still alive and mostly sane.

"Not very, most of them are nothing but weak willed sycophants. Less than half of the prisoners lasted even fifteen minutes." Snape observed. "Besides the noise and stink of so many bodies has always repulsed me, as you know."

"I agree, but I was referring more to tonight's raid. The men are in a good mood, and I'm finally going to destroy the Potter brat. If you stick close I'll let you reveal yourself just before we finish him off. I know of your longstanding hatred of him. How will he feel to see you there? Perhaps a last fleeting glimpse of hope, when he thinks he's being rescued? It will be so good to finally watch the life leave his eyes in a flash of shock and fear."

"It might be fun." Snape conceded. "If he were anyone else to you, I would ask to deal with him myself. I'd rescue him, convince him to trust me, help him along, and then when he trusts me more than a brother I would enjoy seeing the look of hurt betrayal as I turned on him. I'd break his considerable will over a period of days before finally killing him. The subtle and sweet savagery of patience is something the rest of these simpletons will never understand. It would be all the more sweet because of the debt his father owes me, to make the son pay for the sins of his father." He gave the Dark Lord a hopeful look.

"As tempting as that sounds, you know how important that boy is to me. That prophecy has something to do with him. I cannot allow the chance that he will somehow grow and achieve that potential. I promise you can 'rescue' some poor sod soon. I do love it when my followers show true passion." Voldemort turned from Snape to yell at the reveling followers. "The time has come! Everyone grab your wands and don the masks. We strike tonight!"

The cheers were deafening and reverberated throughout the cavern. Far above them, a small child ignorant of the world's evils tossed and turned in her sleep, plagued by nightmares she would never understand.

00000

A series of cracks that reminded Harry of the machine guns in the violent action films Dudley used to watch caught Harry's attention. He had been standing atop the tower with Raistlin discussing the battle plans and waiting for their guests' arrival. Harry had cast several animation charms on trees in the forest below, and Raistlin wove an aura of fear and oppressive darkness around the trees and the tower itself. Harry's animations had only reached perhaps one tree in twenty, and the fear aura was temporary, but the Death Eaters didn't know that.

Soon after the staccato rhythm of incoming Death Eaters ceased, Harry's magically enhanced sight saw a blue blanket of magic spread from the pass near the Forbidden Forest and cover the small valley that made up Godrics Hollow. As it settled around him, Harry felt just the slightest squeeze over that part of his mind and magic that he had begun associating with teleportation and apparition. The Death Eaters did not want him to escape, but it sealed them in as much as it did him.

"They have locked themselves in the cage with a dragon, thinking it is a mouse." Raistlin chuckled in his mind. "Rile them up a bit and show me how well you have absorbed my lessons before I take over."

As the Death Eaters entered his forest, some still frenzied from the Revel shot spells into the air at random. The charmed drums had been brought as well. They beat out a deep driving rhythm "Boom… Boom-Boom Boom…" It would have been very scary if Harry had been sleeping when they approached, and with no way to judge their location. Unlike most raids which were a few Death Eaters appearing and striking like lightning before leaving, this was an army marching to war.

About halfway through the small stand of trees, the first Death Eaters began to scream as the animated trees attacked the invaders. Flitwick would have been so proud. Harry heard several voices call out explosion hexes and blasting curses before trees began to explode in showers of wooden shrapnel. Those unprepared or fighting the fear and trees cried out as shards of wood pierced their skin. The Death Eaters never bothered to find out which trees were charmed, and Harry could see a circle of trees falling or exploding around the Death Eaters. The circle turned into a wide corridor as they pressed forward once again, and shot out the path they had come to leave a wide escape route.

All too soon they had crossed the few hundred yards of wooded area and Voldemort stood atop the barrier mound, the last line of defense before the wide open plain in front of the tower.

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A few miles away to the south, Albus Dumbledore stood atop the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was deeply troubled and had come up to the tower to think. Severus had been summoned away to a meeting of Death Eaters and sent an emergency signal not long after. Either something big was about to happen tonight or his best spy had been revealed to the enemy. The Order was on alert to watch for magic in Muggle areas, and the search for Harry Potter had taken on a frantic pitch in the last hour. All of those that were not waiting anxiously for word from the Aurors were scouring the low rent sections throughout London looking for a green eyed boy who'd gone to ground and hidden quite well.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of thunder echoing off the mountains to the north. Perhaps it was best he do his thinking inside on this night. Yes, that was a much better idea. In his office he would be near the floo the moment a call came through, even though Fawkes had promised to come retrieve him if that should occur.

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"Happy Birthday Potter!" Voldemort called out from atop the hill. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought some friends to our party."

"Not at all Tom, just give me a few minutes and I'll come let you in. I hope you all like arsenic in your punch!" Harry stood atop one of the crenellations of his tower and shouted down to his enemies. He was backlit by several torches and a small fire atop the tower, while a sonorous charm on his voice carried well. Having the light behind him made sure he would not be blinded by it at an inopportune time. For the moment, it gave him a clear shot at all of them, but also gave them a shot at him. If the fire got too heavy he could retreat to the middle of the tower where they would be unable to hit him. They would storm up the tower stairs and he could pick them off in the tight confines. He just hoped they didn't wreck up the joint while he did.

"You didn't have to go to all that trouble just for us." The Dark Lord taunted. "Besides we won't be staying long. I just wanted to drop off my gift."

"Oh really? What did you bring me?" Harry continued the banter.

"This… Avada Kedavra!"

And with that, the battle was joined. Harry stepped aside and let the sickly green curse blow past him harmlessly while bringing his wand up over his head. He twirled his wand and with each twirl, the fire whip he was conjuring grew just a little longer. With a swishing move, Harry brought the impossibly long line of flame down. Voldemort took a half step back and let it barely miss his noseless face. He looked up at Harry and raised one eyebrow in a questioning gesture that was lost over the distance between them.

With a wave of the Dark Lord's hand, a deadly volley of curses in every color of the rainbow soared towards the tower. Thankfully most were shot too high and the rest bounced off the repelling shield the DA had studied the previous year. At his master's urging, Harry rained down every curse and hex he had learned at Hogwarts. He danced from one crenellation to the next as he ducked and dodged incoming curses. Most of his curses were easily avoided given the long distance they had to travel. None of the Death Eaters wanted to be the first to step into the open space before the tower that offered no protection. If they tried to approach the single door, Harry could curse them with ease while they had to shoot at an increasingly smaller target. Harry harassed the Death Eaters while their curses either missed entirely of splashed against the magically strengthened stone of the tower.

The battle had been raging for nearly ten minutes before Harry began mixing magical traditions. The curses and jinxes you could learn at Hogwarts were remarkably easy to cast, but only worked against one person at a time. The new spells he was learning were just a touch more "pure" magic but more involved when it came to their casting. He would never choose the hold person spell he had learned from his master over a body bind, but when it came to affecting a whole area instead of a single target the new magic was better.

Taking great care so his movements would not bring him into an oncoming curse, Harry dampened his fingers with spit and flicked the water skyward while concentrating and speaking a few words aloud. In moments, storm clouds began to form over the Death Eaters and icy rain began to fall. The rain froze almost immediately upon striking the ground or skin of the attackers, making everything slick and causing some to slip and fall as they moved out of the way of incoming spells. A thick darkness soon overtook the death eaters and was lit only by the passage of spells in either direction. Torches fell to the ground useless to light their paths. Quickly the attacking force split into two groups. Some drove back the darkness with light spells while others. Harry responded by aiming to cripple the light bearers who were excellent targets while the slippery ground slowed their movements. All the while Voldemort alternated the cruciatus curse with the killing curse to force him to dodge as well. One slip would be deadly

Harry was quickly becoming exhausted with casting a constant flurry of blasting curses and bone breaking spells in between the new spells. Stowing his wand away, Harry rolled small balls of dragon dung with sulfur in either hand. With a flick of his wrist and a shout, two tiny meteors streaked to either side of Voldemort. Where they struck, enormous balls of raging fire exploded outwards for thirty feet in every direction. Finally the Dark Lord himself was forced to throw up a shield of his own to escape the flames. Harry took advantage of this momentary drop of incoming spells to cast two more of his own. He shot a brilliant cone of blinding light at the Dark Lord and the immediate area, and followed it by causing a bolt of lightning to shoot from the storm clouds which just missed as his target ducked to the side.

"I am sorry Master, but there are too many of them and I am too weak. Take control of me now." Harry ducked behind one of the crenellations and ceded the control over his body to his master.

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Severus Snape shot a tickling charm up at the tower even though he intentionally missed. The Potter brat was over a hundred feet away given his elevation and distance from the attacking army. How did these fools honestly expect to hit him when their spells took several seconds to make it to him and they all shot at the same place? If Snape didn't know that Voldemort merely intended to force Potter to waste his strength before moving forward he would have called this a futile endeavor.

The "faulty portkey" plan was looking to be less than hopeless. At this rate he may be forced to reveal himself and kidnap the boy at the very last instant, something that would be most unfortunate. While he knew that Potter was his only hope at living past the end of the war, he also knew that the "light" side would be a lot less understanding about his hobby of torture. Sure he could still lord his power over every student to pass through his class and practice light torture on students dense enough to get detention, but the rush of power and control just wasn't the same.

There was a momentary lull, so Snape shot off another two harmless charms. Unless a cheering charm made him overconfident, Snape wasn't going to be responsible for Potter's death today. Suddenly two pea sized pieces of flame fell from the tower. One hit to his left and exploded outward with sudden fury. As he rolled out of the way of the first, he saw the second was about to his on his other side. He somehow managed to cast a flame freezing charm on himself as the second explosion washed him in its flames. A warm prickle of magic passed over him, making his nerves tingle. Just as he started to glow bright blue, he threw himself to the side as a bolt of lightning struck down from the clouds above. Where had the boy learned all this advanced magic?

When Severus climbed to his feet and looked to the tower in the middle of the clearing, Potter was no longer visible. Had he finally worn down? Had he been hit and fallen to his death? No, there he was, behind the jagged top of the tower. It looked as if Potter was sprinkling some glittering dust as he drew a circle in the air. The dust caught the light and sparkled brilliantly. When the circle was completed, the air inside lit up in a hellish red light and flames

Two monstrous scaly red hands reached out of the glowing circle and grabbed the edges. The hands pulled and a pair of glistening black horns veined in a glowing dark red slid into being. Within seconds, the most fearsome creature Severus had ever seen stood on top of the tower. It stood twelve and a half feet tall, and it's enormous muscular body was wreathed in flames. It had scaly wings which were tipped with claws, and a spiked tail. Harry said something to it in a growling and guttural language. It gave a loud roar of triumph and drew a six foot long sword that was shaped like a tongue of flame before leaping from the top of the tower and flying to the Death Eaters.

The sword severed heads left and right with an ease that terrified anyone who saw it. Guttural laughter rang out as the demon, for it could be nothing less, slaughtered people and licked the blood from his blade. The Death Eaters panicked and began shooting every spell in their arsenal at the monster, but even the Killing Curse was only successful at slowing it down. The Dark Lord threw an extremely powerful cutting curse at it and the beast was barely scratched.

Scared witless, Snape turned back to the tower, searching for the boy who unleashed this horror upon them. Potter was moving his hands in an extremely intricate pattern while wearing a silly looking green crown. What kind of lunacy was this, putting on a tiara and conducting the battle as if it were music? With a shout of pain, great red wings ripped out of Potter's back and he fell forward. In an instant, Potter's body was transformed from a human body into something else, something enormous, something Dragon!

The giant red dragon was the largest Severus had ever seen. As it flew to the opposite end of the line from where the Demon started, he could see the enormous cone of fire that came from its mouth, at least fifty feet. The Death Eaters curses and jinxes bounced off it's thick hide as they fought to save their own lives.

"RETREAT!" Someone yelled. The cry was taken up among all those still capable of fleeing. The Death Eaters started to run, caught between an angry dragon, an immortal demon, and a Dark Lord who would kill them all for their failures. Severus stood his ground as long as he could, longer even than the Dark Lord who began to cautiously retreat once it became clear that he was about to be alone against two unstoppable forces.

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"They're on the run, we've got them now!" Harry cheered.

"Not for long they're not!" Raistlin was entirely too happy. He loved the feeling of power that came with their fear. He loved hearing their screams and if he could he would make a wine of their tears. The dragon body did not hamper Raistlin as it would Harry and the only modification needed to perform magic was a slight tweak to his voice box. With a bellowing roar, magic rippled through the air and the ground between the Death Eaters and the safety of the pass where they could escape exploded and caused a rain of fiery boulders. It was as if a volcano had suddenly formed in the middle of the Scottish Highlands. The earth thrust upwards and split, magma that should be hundreds of miles below them formed a lake of fire right in their path.

Raistlin let out another cone of fire as he strafed the terrified army. Men fell to the ground and burned in his wake. The demon that had been summoned laughed and swooped on the dying to savor the last moments of their lives.

"Kill them all!" Raistlin yelled to the demon in the harsh language of the abyss. It was amazing after all these years that there were still some demons loyal to him in the abyss, but any would have been happy to comply considering the chaos they could cause. In the meantime, Raistlin had spotted his next victim, and knocked him to the ground before settling over him.

"Potter NO!" His victim screamed. Snape reached up to rip the mask from his face. "Oh God Potter, please don't kill me!"

"Beg mortal!" The demon yelled from nearby. In a flash the man in front of it fell to the ground gutted from navel to neck.

"Potter… Harry… Please! Don't kill me!" Snape had tears and blood running down his cheeks as he begged the one person he hated the most for his life.

"Remember this… Snape." Harry had to remind his master of the potion master's name. "You will never speak of this. Swear it!"

"I swear! I swear on my life I'll never speak about it!" Snape screamed like a little girl. Even Harry was taking a bit of pleasure watching how far the abusive prick could fall. The power he now held over life and death was both intoxicating and very, very scary to Harry. Raistlin launched himself airborne and pumped his leathery wings. He breathed flame into they air as he slapped some of the last few Death Eaters with his tail.

Voldemort had reached the area beyond the anti-apparition field and turned to watch what was left of a fool proof raid fall to pieces. He was ready to apperate at a moment's notice, but felt the need to watch it all go to hell.

"Master, can you turn into anything?" Harry asked, having a sudden evil thought.

"So long as the spell is active, I can be any being in the cosmos. There is no limit to my power!"

"Turn into a phoenix that will put the fear of God into them." Harry suggested.

With an almighty screech, the red dragon changed into a giant phoenix. The wings shrunk and sprouted crimson feathers while the tail split into many long feathers. It looked eerily similar to a normal phoenix, but had a wingspan over fourty feet and looked fighting fierce. Severus Snape was snatched from the ground and used as a weapon. After being used to club a fallen Death Eater who was trying to get up before the demon got to him, Snape was thrown across the magma lake and into Voldemort.

As Snape and the Dark Lord struggled to their feet, a haunting voice rang in Snape's mind. "Remember Snape… Remember…"

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It was early the next morning when Voldemort reviewed the surviving troops. Of the seventy six who left that night, twenty returned and only twelve would fight anytime soon. The rest suffered broken bones or missing limbs from that thrice damned demon.

When had Potter become so powerful? A dragon and a phoenix? No one had more than one animagus form, and there had never been a magical animagus in the history of magic.

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A/N; this is without a doubt the greatest battle chapter I have ever written. In addition to straight battle I also delved a bit into Snape's character and the mentality of the Death Eaters in this chapter. Here are my takes on some of the main characters and their motivations.

Snape; a dark wizard through and through. He loves the feeling of power that the Dark Arts and their use bring. He especially loves destroying innocence and trust. Perhaps this is why he has a job teaching though he hates children, so many young minds and wills to break. He spies for Dumbledore because he wants to live through the war and knows that the Dark Lord will kill him when his power is secure.

Dumbledore; a Light Wizard beyond compare. He's made a few mistakes in judgment where Harry is concerned but he is not manipulative or evil. He is genuinely trying to help people and wants everyone to be happy. He overreacts with Harry because he sees the similarities between Voldemort and Harry. He does need Harry to defeat Voldemort, but he has not slipped into the "weapon" mentaility.

Harry Potter; is a "grey" wizard. He is neither evil nor pure good. He wears the Black Robes (usually associated with evil) for his decisions to put his own needs and wants before anyone else's or even above the "greater good". This self interest was best displayed by his decision for self gratifying revenge upon Bellatrix and Ron during his test. He could have handed them over to an Auror (the "good" decision), or killed them quickly for their evil deeds (the "grey" decision), but instead he chose to satisfy his own desire for vengeance before anything else.

Raistlin Majere; is an Evil with a capital "E" wizard. He loves to have power over others and has a need to be acknowledged by those around him. When it comes to magic, no one is allowed to be better than him. No one is allowed to even claim to be better. Due to his ill health in his previous body he sometimes feels weak and powerless, so to remedy this he will overcompensate by forcing others to acknowledge his power and strength. Whether he does this by good or evil acts varies, but he is a very volatile persona. For a great look at Raistlin overall, try the Wikipedia entry for him or www. geocities. com/lunastuff/char/Raist. Html without the spaces.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer; I don't own any of the intellectual property rights to the characters within.

Since he linked to me, I'll return the favor. Everyone should go check out Kinsfire's latest story that he's writing for NaNoWriMo. It's called "Burning Day" and it looks to be an excellent addition to his catalogue.

I'm not nearly as happy with this chapter as I am with the others, but it sets up a few things for later in the story so I just had to grin and bare it.

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Just before noon the morning after the battle, Severus Snape stumbled into Hogwarts' Hospital Wing. In addition to the broken left arm from being used as a club and the minor cuts from exploding trees, the Dark Lord had chosen to make his displeasure known quite forcefully. It was a sure sign of Voldemort's anger when he _stopped_ using the cruciatus. With the torture curse, there was only pain, and no physical damage. When the curse stopped, so did the pain, but when Voldemort was truly angry he made sure that the pain stuck with you. Right now Severus had a flesh eating curse on each of his feet. The dark curse would slowly make his flesh rot and fall away until it was stopped, causing immense pain the entire time. The points behind casting them on his feet were to make moving painful and slowly devour him starting with non-vital parts to prolong the experience. The potions to remove the curse and reverse the damage were no problem for Snape, but they took time to brew. He would have to live with the pain for at least another day.

Poppy Pomphrey was able to patch up his arm and the cuts and scratches with ease. She gave him a potion for the pain and listened intently to his instructions about what materials he would need for his potions. Snape was determined that as soon as his arm was solid again, he would brew the potions to rid himself of the curse from his bed in the Hospital. It would mean he was under the fussy Matron's eye longer than absolutely necessary, but he really did not want to walk to the dungeons on feet that were only half there. It was not long before Snape fell into an exhausted sleep.

When he woke up late in the afternoon, he found Albus Dumbledore sitting in a purple leather wingback chair beside him. The aged Headmaster was absorbed in a book and had apparently not noticed that his colleague and spy had awoken. It was only after Snape finished drinking a second pain potion and set the empty vial on the tray beside his bed that Albus closed his book.

"I am glad to see you are still with us Severus. After your signal last night, I was very worried that you didn't return." Dumbledore said with a look of sympathy on his face. "Poppy tells me that you were in pretty bad shape when you arrived."

Snape nodded but did not say anything.

"I understand your hesitancy to speak with me right now, but I must ask. Is your position as a spy for the light compromised?"

"No, something else upset him last night." Snape told him.

Mentally, Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief. "What happened last night? You signaled an emergency but the Order saw no sign of trouble last night. Was it a false alarm?"

"No, it was no false alarm," Snape said with an odd look in his eyes. "The Dark Lord lost almost half his army last night."

"How? There was has been fighting reported anywhere in Britain in the last week. If something big is happening I need to know about it." Dumbledore pressed.

"I can't say."

"Severus, I need to know."

"You don't understand, I really can't tell you. He'll kill me if I tell you!" Snape grabbed Dumbledore by the front of his robes with the strength of a man possessed.

"Severus, calm down. You know I am discreet with the information you give me. Voldemort will never know that you have told me whatever it was that happened." Dumbledore cast a slight cheering charm on the unsettled Potions Master to help him regain control.

"He'll know. I'm not worried about…" Snape suddenly changed direction entirely. "I just can't tell you, I'm sorry. When was the last time you went by Godrics Hollow by the way?"

Dumbledore frowned in thought. "I haven't been back there since the Potters died. Does this have anything to do with last night?"

"No, nothing at all Sir. If you'll excuse me, I have some potions to prepare so I can get back on my feet." Snape smiled when the Headmaster walked away thinking. He got his message across without breaking his word. The oath wasn't magically binding, but if he told Albus the change in attitude towards Potter would be a dead giveaway. Then after Potter talked his way out of it, Snape knew he would be dragon dung. It was far safer to send the old man to his doom completely unaware.

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Harry had been working hard all day. When he woke up after the battle, Harry immediately started the cleanup efforts. Following his master's instructions, Harry levitated the bodies and dismembered parts down into the cellar of the former Potter house. He would need them later when he started studying the undead and other aspects of necromancy, but did not want them rotting all over his front lawn. He stacked them in the cellar and cast a stasis charm on the room before sealing the cellar with a colloportus.

He couldn't do anything to repair the trees, nor the slowly cooling lake of fire. The tree trunks he levitated out into the plain before the Tower. They could be used to target practice or a source of transfiguration material. He took two of the trees over to the lake of fire and began to transfigure a bridge to cross the seven meter gap. There was no real purpose behind the bridge, but this was also supposed to be Harry's spell practice for the day too and so far it was just moving stuff around. It was quickly obvious that Harry did not know the first thing about building a bridge. His first two attempts were too short or too fragile. When he lowered them into place, the first one just fell and broke the thin crust of thin rock before bursting into flames. The second was long enough but snapped in the middle and it too caught fire and burned.

Harry was standing on the edge, watching the fires crackle and pop when a sharp crack drew his eyes to the opposite shore. Standing across the patch of scorching hot rock, Albus Dumbledore and his phoenix companion Fawkes had just apperated in. Fawkes sang a few bars of phoenix song and swooped down to bask in the flames and hot rock. Harry looked a Dumbledore with a calculating stare. How should he handle this? What had Snape told him? When Dumbledore started to close the gap, Harry raised his hand to stop him. He decided to pretend nothing at all was off.

"You don't want to do that Sir." Harry yelled to him. "There was a slight magical accident and the black rock is still very hot."

Dumbledore walked around the hot patch and looked at the state of the Hollow. From this vantage point, the approach to the Tower was clear. Dumbledore looked the Tower over with an appraising eye. Through years of practice he could see that it was built with magic but the exact process eluded him for the moment.

"It's good to see you sir. Why don't we go inside and I'll get you a drink before we talk about whatever brought you here. My err, instructor insists that I always have a few bottles of good red wine available for when he is here." Harry motioned for the aged headmaster to precede him through the forest of stumps.

"Happy Birthday Harry, I see you've been practicing." Dumbledore's eye gave an annoying twinkle as he waved his hand idly at the stumps.

"Well I've been thinking about putting in a garden soon. I just had to clear some space for my potions ingredients and other plants." Harry explained.

"And naturally you practiced your explosion and bone breaking spells on the trunks." Dumbledore nodded.

"Exactly," Harry confirmed.

Suddenly Dumbledore stopped and looked very cautious. He pulled his wand and waved it in a sweeping arc. Suddenly the area atop the hill lit up with the after images of the curses that had impacted last night. A variety of colors and intensities shone forth.

"It happened here," Dumbledore murmured to himself. His head turned to give Harry a speculative look. "The Dark Lord was here last night."

Harry just nodded, immensely grateful that he had removed all the bodies already.

Dumbledore stooped to place his fingers over a patch of bloodstained grass. "Something unspeakably evil was here. The earth is scorched but the blood remembers the one who spilled it."

"Can you think of a better way to describe Voldemort sir? There are a few secrets I am honor bound to keep, but I can safely say that my instructor and I were able to repel him." Harry decided to cooperate but tread lightly around his Headmaster.

"No, this doesn't feel like Tom. I felt him at the ministry, he has changed from when he was young, but whatever this was had no hope at redemption. What aren't you telling me?"

"Considering you haven't even asked me what happened, a lot. They came just after midnight, arriving almost in the same place you did. There were around seventy or eighty people here last night. They tore through my forest making an awful racket and I fought them from atop the tower," Harry pointed up at the Tower where some spells had scarred the magically strengthened rock. "I held them at bay for a while before my mentor and I repelled them. I can't tell you how exactly, that's one of those things, but we're both quite alright."

"I see. Harry surely this shows you that you are not safe here. Come along and we'll take you to your relatives." Dumbledore sighed dramatically.

"Actually I think it proves I am quite safe here. I'm still alive and my home is still standing after all."

"But the wards at your relatives' home will protect you better." Dumbledore insisted.

"Remind me again about these wards. They are impenetrable so long as I can call my Aunt's house home right?" Harry asked politely, refusing to get worked up.

"That's right, no one wishing to do you harm will be able to enter the property."

Harry developed a pensive expression. "Unless they were already living there that is. My relatives never had any problems with the wards. Besides, there are two very important reasons that I can see why that won't work. Firstly my relatives told me very clearly that I was no longer welcome in their home. Secondly, I have my own home now. Since I cannot call it my home, I'd be shocked if the wards were still there at all."

"Oh Harry…" Dumbledore said sadly. "I fear you have no idea the amount of trouble this will bring. We'll have to make other arrangements for your safety now."

"How about right here?" Harry asked. "If you could do me a favor and put a Fidelis charm on my tower, no one will be able to find me. If you cast the charm I can be my own secret keeper and then I'll be perfectly safe."

"We can't just leave you alone Harry. It wouldn't be safe. You are still so young."

"Sir, I ran my Aunt's house since I was old enough to take orders. I cook, clean, and maintain everything here already. My mentor has arranged for lessons in the evenings, but even with my responsibilities I have more freedom than ever before."

"I wish Harry, truly I do, that you would have had a better childhood." Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder in sympathy. "Why don't you tell me about your time here and I'll make up my mind about what I can do to help you."

"Alright, come on inside, if we're going to talk for a while we might as well be comfortable." Harry escorted his Headmaster into the living area on the ground floor of his home and poured him a glass of Raistlin's wine and grabbed a soft drink for himself. Dumbledore examined the front room with interest. The furniture was simple but comfortable and the decorations sparse. Settling into a chair near Dumbledore, Harry began his account. "The first couple days were tough, my parents home was in very bad shape. I don't think anyone ever tried to stop it from falling apart, but that's understandable with my relatives. Eventually I built this tower and salvaged what I could to make it livable. Once I had a place to live, it was all down hill from there. I go into town for groceries or company every few days. There is a nice old man in the park there who fought in the Great War, we talk or play chess in the park some afternoons. Other than that, I've got lessons in the evenings and an hour or two of work in the mornings."

"I'm glad everything has been going well. So what have you been learning in your lessons?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"I've been learning a lot more about this power of mine. It's really just a different way to use magic, and it all builds on itself. With a gesture I can make a small flame; that is a very simple spell. Just a little more complicated, but still fairly similar to the first, is a spell I can use to light my hands on fire without being burned. Another step up in the same vein, just a little more complicated, creates a small ball of flame a few feet across that I can control from a distance. Last week I took the next step in this progression. Now I can cast an explosive ball of fire over a hundred meters."

"It can't all be about fire, have you learned anything else?"

"Oh sure," Harry muttered something under his breath and an invisible minion brought him another soda. "I can do illusions much better now without a wand than I can with. I'm currently researching a spell to make me invisible and another to let me see the invisible. Learning both opposites is supposed to make it a little easier. I've also learned how to see magic, a spell to read other languages, one to protect my mind, and another to make me invisible to divination magic. The most useful spell I've learned is also one of the simplest. It can clean, heat, cool, levitate, join, flavor, and color anything I might want. It is the basis for almost our entire charms curriculum. The root from which wand magic grew if you want to call it that. The downside is that it takes a lot longer to cast a single spell and if I get distracted the magic can backfire with unpredictable results."

"Fascinating, really it is. You've mentioned your instructor or mentor several times now. I can assume that he does not wish to be named correct?" Harry nodded and gestured for him to continue. "Well may I at least ask how you met him? That has been bugging me since you first mentioned him. You were the first person I knew of able to perform magic in this way and now just over a month later someone who is skilled enough to teach others has appeared from nowhere."

Harry smiled, a predictable question. Dumbledore needed to know the allegiance of this mystery man but didn't want to ask outright. "As you said in my first year; we kept everything that happened a secret, so naturally everyone knew. Before I had even left Hogwarts, he and I came to an agreement concerning my tutelage."

"And what are your plans concerning your education once September comes again?"

"Actually I was hoping to get some additional tutoring from anyone in the Order who is willing to teach me. I will be returning to Hogwarts, but now that I know the prophecy I must work harder to catch up." Harry snapped his fingers and the invisible servant refilled the Professor's glass.

"The Order will do everything we can to help you Harry." Dumbledore assured him with a sigh of relief. Harry leaving Hogwarts was unthinkable, but there was very little he could do to force the issue without becoming the "bad guy"

The two talked for quite a while, and slowly began to heal the rift of mistrust and anger that had been spawned over the last year. Harry's eyes were open however to Dumbledore's fallibility and couldn't be closed again. In his mind, Dumbledore could be a powerful ally but he could not be allowed control again. He was careful not to say it, but Harry knew that ultimately he would only take orders from himself.

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After their friendly chat was over, Harry had convinced Dumbledore that a Fidelius was the best solution for Harry's safety since he could no longer return to the Dursley home. Dumbledore was unwilling to compromise the Headquarters with the unknown of Harry's mentor, but likewise they could not prevent him from developing what may be the power that ends the war.

They decided to hide everything within the circular hill with the charm. Albus asked Harry to write the secret to be hidden with his own blood on a sheet of parchment. Meanwhile Dumbledore was drawing the ward lines. Harry nicked the inside of his elbow and let a small amount of his blood flow onto a saucer. Picking up the quill he carefully wrote "The Tower of High Sorcery is located in Godrics Hollow" in crisp perfect letters. Dumbledore came back inside and together they climbed the stairs to complete the spell in the open air.

Dumbledore took his wand and traced glowing runes in the air while reciting a sentence in Latin over and over, "**Semper paratus fecisti nega!" **With a flick of his wand he sent the first rune flying through the air towards the ground below and began the second part of the spell. "**Ultra posse nemo obligatur.**" Finally he took the parchment with the secret and set it ablaze, using his wand to make the ashes circle Harry's head. The next time he took a breath, the ashes entered his lungs with searing heat. Dumbledore surrounded Harry with several threads of magic and thrust the last rune into his chest and finished the spell. "**Totum dependeat semper fidelis!" **There was a bright flash and Harry felt the magic permeate his being.

"Professor, I might not be great at Latin, but that spell sounded a bit odd."

Dumbledore smiled a bit guiltily. "Well it wasn't invented by the most scrupulous wizards."

"So you're saying the almighty Fidelius charm was created by criminals looking for a place to stash their loot?"

"A place to hide until the aurors went away actually, but you got the point."

Harry escorted Dumbledore back downstairs and over to where Fawkes was still basking in the heat of last night's explosion. "I don't mean to be rude, but it is getting late and I need to make dinner before my lessons. Fawkes, you are welcome to come back any time."

Just as Harry disappeared from sight, hidden by the charm he had just cast, Dumbledore realized something very important. "Harry, you never told me the secret!"

"I'll see you in September Professor!" Harry yelled back with laughter in his voice.

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I case you can't read latin, here's my translation of the "gangsta" version of the Fidelius charm.

**Always be ready to deny you did it. No man is obligated beyond his abilities. Let it all hang out, always be faithful. **In other words "Admit nothing. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time. Don't rat out your homies."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer; As usual I do not own Harry Potter or Raistlin Majere. I'll give a nod to Nonjon for A.K. and his Golden Rule though, they're in here just as a cameo.

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The month of August went by quickly. Harry made progress in his magical studies but had more faltering starts than leaps of understanding. He found some things nearly impossible to grasp. Though he was becoming excellent with illusions and glamour spells, he was having almost no luck with the spells to actually change his body. After he practically begged his master to teach him the shape shifting spell, he was assigned to start with one that basically would make him a metamorphmagus for a few minutes. He would even be able to grow additional arms or wings if he got it right, instead of just having a glamour that provided an illusion of them.

Despite the fact that he used more complex spells everyday, it took him forever to get it right. Raistlin scoffed at him when he asked for help with such a "simple spell" and insisted that the problem was all in his mind. To Harry, being a metamorphmagus or an animagus was simply something you either were or weren't. The idea that it could be imitated with a spell seemed counterintuitive. Eventually he was able to alter his body a little bit, becoming a foot shorter or taller and changing his features a bit, but still couldn't manage to give himself four arms or wings. The moment he stopped concentrating though, the spell would fail and his body would revert to its usual form. He knew that additional limbs would be necessary for the next stage, when he learned to actually polymorph, so he kept working at it.

His studies in necromancy were advancing, as he came to understand death and life things became a little easier. He had managed, under his master's careful watch, to reanimate one of the fallen Death Eaters. Initially it was a burned and disfigured corpse, but in the course of the animation ritual the flesh burned off completely leaving only a mindless skeleton. It could only follow extremely simple commands, but at least it did not question orders. A few days later he was exhausted after a practice when a spell backfired on him, so he leeched the artificial life from the poor thing for a quick pick-me-up. With the magic gone, skeleton crumbled into dust and blew away in the wind. He also learned to fashion a shield of magic that would steal life and energy from anyone who touched him physically. It wouldn't be particularly useful against Death Eaters who used magic for everything, but Harry could still see its uses.

It was three days before the start of term when an alarm sounded in his study area. It was not the alarm he had learned to cast to alert him of incoming visitors, nor did it sound like the alarm for the magical oven he had purchased in Diagon Alley. Raistlin apparently knew what it was however because Harry could suddenly feel his happiness in the back areas of his mind. Following his master's orders, Harry gathered a few items and climbed the stairs to Raistlin's laboratory.

When Harry entered the room, he was shocked by the changes it had undergone in the last two months. Maps of the world hung on the walls and were covered in arcane symbols and diagrams. There were all manner of books and bizarre instruments scattered across the worktables, and quite a few unknown potions bubbling on one table off to the side. The thing that caught and held Harry's attention above all others was the giant glass cylinder Harry had seen once before. Floating peacefully in a green tinted liquid with bubbles occasionally forming across its skin was an exact duplicate of himself. Every tiny detail down to the hourglass scar where the skin on his arm had been removed was perfectly replicated in this… thing! Harry couldn't take his eyes off of it.

"Is it… alive?" He asked his master.

"Not yet. The body lives but it has no soul to give it life." Raistlin told him. "There are only a few more things to do before I can put myself inside it. I'll need control for a few minutes."

Even though Harry was supposed to be in control during the day he was happy to give it up, hoping it would be the last time. Raistlin used a set of tongs to carefully grab a large ruby and lower it into a shimmering silver potion. He then increased the intensity of the flame and let the potion boil furiously for several minutes. Taking the potion off the fire when it suddenly turned black, he used the tongs to remove the crystal again. The ruby had magically grown several times it's original size and glowed faintly. After it had been washed clean of all traces of the potion, it was dried carefully before being lowered into a different potion. Once the new potion had returned to its slow simmer, Harry flinched a bit as Raistlin cut open his palm and allowed his blood to flow into the potion. The cut was healed with a spell and the stone retrieved. Once again it had grown, and was roughly the size of a large egg. Instead of washing off the excess potion as before, the wet and sticky gem was rolled into a sparkling white powder, covering all the sides. As soon as it dried, Raistlin cast a spell and the powdery coating crystallized into a smooth and colorless layer on the magical gem. What started as a small red ruby was now a stone the size of a man's fist, glowed with an inner fire, and had an outer layer of flawless diamond that couldn't be scratched.

Raistlin levitated the empty husk out of the tank it was grown in and laid it out on a table. He placed a set of robes by its side and carefully placed the stone in the middle of the chest. Whispering a spell, the gem began to glow brightly and pulse with power. Harry suddenly felt as if he had been immersed in custard and was being pulled out. The air seemed to thicken around him and he felt a pulling sensation down to the core of his being. With a squelching sound, Harry felt Raistlin leave his body. The gem flared brightly for a moment and shattered into dust. The gem dust flew around the body and seemed to be a nimbus of power. Little by little the dust was absorbed and the glow faded.

When the last of the gem dust was gone, the body's eyes opened and Harry was surprised to see them as golden with hourglass pupils instead of green like his own. His master sat up and began to dress himself in the robes he had prepared.

"What is it?" He snapped, noticing that Harry was staring at him with something like awe.

"Your eyes, everything else looks like my body but I've never seen eyes like that before." Harry replied.

"Functionally it is your body, but the eyes will always tell. The eyes are the gateway to the soul, and my soul was cursed a long time ago to see time as it affects all things. Now get out of my lab, I have things to do!"

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In the early morning hours of the first of September, two figures dressed in muggle clothing exited the Tower in Godrics Hollow. One of them carried a trunk and a cage, the other only a small sack. The one with the sack traced a symbol into the wood of the door and spoke a few words of magic, sealing it from any intruders upon pain of death if any opened the door but those two. Harry was off to Hogwarts while Raistlin was leaving to see the world and track down the knowledge he needed to restore his spell book completely. Harry offered to loan his master money to help things along but he scoffed at the idea, insisting that he was above the need to _borrow_ money to finance his travel. Harry received strict instructions on things he should research on his own and given a list of spells to learn as he was able. They would meet again during the winter holidays unless something untoward happened.

Raistlin teleported away to start his odyssey while Harry was casting his nondetection spell and glamour. Once he was sure that the ministry could not detect his magic and that he wouldn't be recognized, Harry apperated to the Leaky Cauldron in London. He hefted the feather-light trunk onto his shoulder and walked three blocks to the Charing Cross Tube Station.

Since he had a little time before the train left, Harry stepped into a tiny restaurant outside the station for a wholesome breakfast. Not long after he received his meal, a family walked in and sat at the table behind him. Harry soon heard a voice he knew all to well. Hermione and her parents apparently had the same idea he did, and he could hear Hermione fretting to her parents about not hearing from him all summer. She seemed concerned that he just vanished without a trace, but was hopeful that he would be on the train. Harry smirked to himself as he put a few things together. He and Raistlin had been careful to ward the Tower against divination magic so they would be undisturbed, but Harry hadn't expected this to divert owls too. He had thought that his friends were just stuck following Dumbledore's orders again before the Fidelius was raised.

After paying his bill, Harry shouldered his trunk once again and walked to the door. As he was leaving, he caught the flash of recognition when Hermione saw the Gryffindor logo on the end of his trunk and smirked before giving her a wink and vanishing into the crowds.

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Harry was sitting alone in a compartment, still concealed behind his glamour, when Hermione finished her prefect's meeting. Getting the compartment to himself hadn't been easy, but those few who didn't immediately assume he was the new instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors were quickly scowled into submission. Ron and Hermione stormed into the room about an hour into the ride.

"You!" Hermione said with a voice full of venom.

"Me," Harry said cheekily.

"Him?" Ron asked since no one bothered to inform him what was going on.

"You disappear all summer and then just turn up with a smirk and a new face?"

"Just who do you think I am?" Harry asked with a hint of confusion.

"Harry, I've lived on the other side of the tower from you for five years do you think I don't know what your trunk looks like?"

Harry let the glamour drop and smiled. "Ah, the jig is up. So how was your summer?"

"Where have you been mate? Everyone was looking for you and the owls just came back without delivering your letters." Ron told him.

"Oh, I found God and decided to become a monk. Unfortunately they found out I was a wizard so I had to come back before they could arrange a witch burning." Harry shook his head sadly. "It was so peaceful until they brought out the pitchforks and torches."

"And a sudden burst of religion made you decide to ignore your friends?" Hermione said scoldingly.

"Well they did make me take a vow of silence, and I couldn't write because I had to follow what the Good Book said." Harry explained.

"Blimey, no talking at all? I'd go 'round the twist." Ron looked horrified at the prospect.

"Before I became a witch my family attended services and I don't remember anything forbidding you from writing to your friends."

"Well what about the part that says "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you"? This nice old man explained the Golden Rule so I could finally understand. If you had wanted me to be a friend, you would have been one to me. I figured that since you guys didn't want me to know anything last summer you must not want to know about what I was doing. But now that we're back at school we can go back to pretending everything is perfect right?"

"Mate, everyone was worried sick about you. Dumbledore had practically the whole Order out looking for you. Alright you've made your point about the letters but we were worried." Ron chipped in.

"Dumbledore and Snape both came to visit me so it isn't my fault if they never told you I was just fine. Personally I think the Headmaster was playing some of his games and used me as a convenient excuse." Harry and his friends continued talking and catching up for the rest of the train ride. Once they finally caught on that he wasn't going to tell them exactly where he was over the summer things progressed on to all the other topics friends chatted over. Harry shared a few stories that his chess partner A.K. told him, along things he had done or seen when he was out and about, but was careful never to mention anything about his training.

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The sorting was slightly larger this year than in years past, but Harry wasn't paying attention like everyone else. Taking advantage of a decent distraction and a clear shot, Harry decided he needed to know when the winds of change began blowing. Discreetly he kissed each of his fingertips on his right hand then stuck a dried white rose petal to each one. Returning his hand to under the table, Harry locked his eyes on his target across the hall and started to say his spell. Ever so gently his fingers closed around an imaginary ball and he brought it towards himself under the table. Seeing no immediate reaction, or at least none that would indicate failure, he called it a success and would follow up later.

Once the feast was over and everyone was dismissed back to their dorms Harry waited for most of the school to leave before crossing the Great Hall, his friends trailing behind him. He called out to one of the stragglers, "Blaise, wait up!"

Blaise Zabini was known for being a loner, even within Slytherin House. Her frosty attitude and lack of friends earned her the nickname Ice Queen, but when she turned and saw Harry her dark eyes lit up and a smile graced her face. Once he got closer, she greeted Harry like an old friend. "Harry, good to see you!"

"It's good to see you to Blaise. Look, I'm sorry I haven't really gotten to know you over the years, but I was hoping you could do me a small favor." Harry gave her a pathetic grin and puppy dog eyes.

"Oh stop that," She chided with a giggle. Then her smile turned evil. "What can I do to… err, _for_ you?"

Harry ignored the intentional attempt to derail him with hormones but inwardly cheered, his spell was in full effect. "I was hoping you could give me a heads up if there was anything brewing in Slytherin that I would need to know about. I could ask others but I wanted a chance to get to know you better."

"Of course I can do that. Here I was hoping it was something _hard_ you wanted me to take care of." She pouted a little.

"Not tonight maybe another time," He teased her, "Thanks, it's good to know I can count on you."

"No problem Harry. I've got to go but I'll see you around." She ruffled his hair playfully and left the hall for the dungeons.

When Harry turned around, he found both of his friends staring at him in shock. Their mouths were working but no noise was coming out. Finally Ron recovered somewhat. "You melted the Ice Queen."

"It's that whole Golden Rule thing again. If someone curses you every day for five years you might decide they want to be cursed in return, but if you offer a little friendship…" Harry trailed off and let them draw their own conclusions. Truthfully the sudden change was more the former than the latter but he wouldn't admit that. For the next week or so, Zabini's free will was his to command. He wasn't controlling her like with the Imperious curse, but she did view him as a close and trusted friend and would be happy to follow any _reasonable_ requests he might make.

Ron quickly got over who he was being friendly with and moved straight on to what he was being friendly with. "But she's a Slytherin! You know they're all out to get you."

"Of course she's a Slytherin, she wouldn't be nearly as effective a spy if she weren't," Harry pointed out. "Besides, didn't the hat warn that this was a time for unity between the houses? Are you mad that I've got friends in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff from the DA?"

"It's not that we object to her being a Slytherin…" Hermione started. "Ok so it is, just be careful Harry."

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Since the next morning was a Sunday, Harry took advantage of his lack of classes and his roommates' habit of sleeping in to sneak out of Gryffindor tower unobserved. If he was going to maintain both fields of magical study, he needed room to work and practice without having the whole student body breathing down his neck about anything odd. The Room of Requirement and the Chamber of Secrets were both good choices except they were too obvious.

Over the years Harry had found a few rooms that most people weren't likely to know about, but not all of them were suitable for his needs. Most of them were just extra classrooms from when the school housed more students but there were a few really unusual rooms that deserved a look. For instance, there was a small chapel on the fifth floor that used to be used by muggleborn students who were devout in their faith. Over the years religion had become a less important part of muggle society and the room forgotten by most. It was large enough for Harry's purposes but the Hufflepuff ghost, the Fat Friar, still used it as his retreat on Sunday mornings.

The site Harry was particularly interested in was the area under the third floor corridor were Fluffy was housed in his first year. Down the trapdoor was a long fall and several connected rooms, but Harry wondered if the traps and tests were still there. Ideally he could set up shop in the last two chambers and set his own traps and locks on the previous ones. He could have a small work area in the room formerly occupied by Snape's fire challenge, and practice spells in the much larger cavern where the mirror was and Harry fought Voldemort.

Once he arrived at the proper hallway Harry pulled open the trap door and descended down the hole on his broom, pulling the trap door closed when he did. There was no sign of the Devil's snare as he passed the level where it was strung across the tunnel. Landing on the floor below, Harry shrunk his broom and proceeded forward. The room that formerly bore the keys and brooms was now empty but the door remained locked. All the unlocking charms he tried failed to help, even the one his master taught him. Harry stared at the door for a few moments before inspiration kicked in and he summoned the pins out of the hinges holding the door in place. After that it was easy to just move the door out of the way without unlocking it. Honestly, it took him longer to get past this door now than it did in first year. Who leaves the key in the same room as a locked door? It kind of defeats the purpose.

The room that used to house the chess set was empty, as were the others. Good locks and sturdy doors were all that stood in his way. Harry resolved to study a few good locking spells and other methods of keeping people out over the next week and he would leave the castle on the weekend to get anything he needed. He already had a few good ideas about what to put in the chess room and where Quirrel's troll was hiding, but at the very least he wanted a password on the trapdoor and something cool in the first room just in case.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer; Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards for they are subtle and quick to wrath.

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In addition to Defense, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Potions, Harry was pleased to see two "guided research" periods on his schedule. He assumed these were the times that Order members would be coming to tutor him. He had one on Wednesday and another on Saturday evening. The first thing on his schedule for the week was Potions class, strange how that always seemed to happen, but Harry was actually looking forward to it. Surely now that he was back at Hogwarts, Snape would be feeling empowered again, so Harry was ready to take him down a notch if needed. There were some spells he could discretely cast that would definitely catch his attention.

As it happened, NEWT level Potions was taught to all four houses in one class since the admission standard was so high. Harry and Hermione were the only Gryffindors who made the cut, but there were five Ravenclaws, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff, and Malfoy, Nott, Parkinson, Zabini, and Davis from Slytherin. When they filed into the classroom Harry was surprised that Zabini immediately set up on his right side, forcing Hermione to take his left as they took the table in the front of the class.

Snape scowled at him for daring to continue his class and made remarks about some people being lucky to attend, but did not harass him for his potion. Given that he had Hermione and Blaise helping him, there was little if anything to criticize and faulting his work would mean faulting one of his Slytherins as well. The potion they were assigned was one to induce euphoria, useless according to Snape, but Harry saw a few potential uses. People rarely complained when you influenced their minds in a pleasant way, which allowed you to get more done.

At the end of the hour Hermione and Blaise bottled three samples and labeled them before taking them to Professor Snape. Harry remained at the station and poured the rest off into a large flask. When he bent to place the flask in his bag, Harry heard the noise of breaking glassware. With a sigh, he pulled the flask back out to fill another sample when he Snape stopped him with a sneer.

"There will be no swapping your work with a store bought potion in my class Potter. Since you cannot provide me with an undoctored potion to grade I will have to mark your failure for the day." Snape told him entirely too happily.

"Professor Snape since we worked together, why can't Ms. Zabini and I both receive credit based on her sample? It came from the same cauldron after all." Harry tried to reason with him.

"Failure," Snape repeated.

Watching Snape's robes billow menacingly as he left, Harry decided this wouldn't stand. He focused his mind on the illusion he wished to create and rubbed a bit of fleece from a newborn lamb across his brow. To anyone else it would appear he was merely wiping off sweat after a bit of work, but combined with the mental focus and two words of magic he was able to pull the fleece over more than his own eyes.

"Professor Snape, I think I heard someone knocking from inside your office. Maybe you should check that while I get started on another potion for you." Harry stared his Professor in the eye.

"I heard nothing, ten points from Gryffindor for lying to a professor!"

"How do you know I'm lying?" Harry challenged with a glint in his eye.

When Snape pulled open his door in anger, all the color drained from his face and he reared back in shock. Standing in the middle of the office and reading a book bound with human skin was something that frightened Snape to his core. The twelve foot tall red winged demon who decimated Voldemort's forces closed his book and straightened up. He began to lovingly stroke the hilt of his lightning bolt shaped sword and smiled a mouth full of tiny daggers at the Potions Professor. Snape slammed his door shut and cast every locking charm in the book at it before conjuring a heavy beam to bar the door.

Harry coughed to catch his professor's attention, "Professor, I don't think I have time before my next class to finish this potion. Would you like me to come back later to finish it?"

Snape glared at him for a moment before responding. "You'll receive the same grade as Zabini, how fortunate you chose a competent partner for today. Get out of my sight."

"Indeed, I just hope there won't be anymore accidents in the future." Harry made air quotes as he mentioned accidents, and then grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

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"I'm telling you Albus, the boy is worse than ever. He's pure evil!" Snape insisted

"Severus, I've listened to you complain about Harry for years now. I've had enough. Like you, Mr. Potter has my complete trust." Dumbledore responded calmly.

"He's consorting with demons. How can he still have your trust?"

"He has accused you of worse over the years and I still trust you, it will take more than words to convince me." Dumbledore told him. "I am disappointed that you cannot put your differences behind you, Severus. I'm sure that Harry's teacher wouldn't let him do anything like that."

"What do you really know about his mysterious teacher anyway? You don't know what he could be up to." Snape pointed out.

"Harry vouched for him, and he helped drive off Voldemort. So at the very least we know that he's on our side. And he does have good taste in wine." Dumbledore began searching his mind for absolutely anything at all to say.

"That was his teacher? Albus by all that's holy that thing is the problem! Fine, maybe I've overreacted in the past, but this time at least trust me enough to meet him for yourself."

"I still think you just need to relax, but if it will make you happy I'll see if he has some time for a short visit." The Headmaster said resignedly.

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Harry's first special session was with Professor McGonagall on Wednesday. She offered to teach him purely practical transfiguration and conjuring and possibly the animagus transformation if he was capable. Harry declined the animagus training since he would soon have something just as useful if not more so. Maybe after the war was over he could research how the animagus transformation became an inherent magic that could be used at any time. Making the spells to alter his body drastically permanent held appeal but not at the cost of only having one shape.

The practical transfiguration and conjuring turned out to be spells that would be useful and fast to cast at the cost of long term stability or power. They were not taught in the official curriculum because if a person could conjure a chair that lasts for hours, why would they learn a spell where the conjured chair only lasted a few minutes? Speed was not something that was essential to most people when transfiguring or conjuring, but it could save Harry's life.

The first spell McGonagall showed him was a simple swirl of the wand and three syllables to cast. It conjured any simple substance but lacked definition or detail. After a few attempts with the professor correcting any errors, he was able to conjure a crude wooden stool.

"Good work, now we just need to give you proper incentive to perfect it. May I see your wand for a moment?" McGonagall extended her hand to him. When Harry gave his wand to her, she muttered a few words and waved her wand in a moderately complex pattern over it.

"What were you thinking of for incentive?" Harry asked curiously.

McGonagall shot a leg locking charm at him and instantly his feet snapped together and remained planted to the ground. She tossed him his wand. "You perform best under pressure. When you absolutely need it your magic is impeccable, all other times it is passable. I've restricted your wand so that it can only conjure, let's see if you can use it to block my spells."

Without another word, a stinging hex caught him on his arm. Harry tried to conjure something to shield himself with as another spell hit him. This one didn't do anything immediately apparent, but Harry still had to resist the urge to swear. Spell after spell came at him, slowly at first, then increasing in frequency. Maybe a third of the spells were stinging or pinching hexes to keep him focused but it was the others that inspired Harry. Little by little, McGonagall was changing his appearance and outfit to embarrass him. After wearing robes for five years, it wasn't too horrifying to suddenly be wearing a dress, but the style gave him pause. A simple frock or sundress would be annoying, but McGonagall seemed to be taking revenge for seven years of having the Marauders around and put him in a bright red evening gown. When Harry heard the spell Lavender used to produce lipstick, things finally clicked and a block of wood caught the "curse".

Soon he was catching more and more spells in his makeshift shields and decided to counter attack. Pulling a marble from his pocket, Harry made motions with his hands as if stretching a soap bubble before bringing them together and saying the incantation. Like when he captured Lestrange in his test, the air seemed to grow thick and solidify around the Head of Gryffindor House, forming a faceted sphere she could not escape from. She tried a few spells to break it, and then had to quickly counter them as they began to reflect back at her. With a snap of his fingers, Harry's unseen servant began tugging at McGonagall's wand. Seeing Harry's smirk, she turned loose of it and simply stared at him in anticipation.

Harry took the wand as it floated to him and cancelled the various spells. "After the first task of the Tournament, I told Hermione if I ever needed help with a spell she should threaten me with a dragon. It would appear lipstick is just as effective."

"I'm glad you found your incentive, now let me out of here." She grumbled.

"Oh I don't know it's tempting to give you my wand and see how well you do when our positions are reversed. Sadly I already know that I wouldn't get a shot in." Harry reached out and with a simple knock from his hand, the sphere shattered and dissolved back into simple air. "I'd appreciate it if you'd fix my wand. Next time don't assume that just because I don't have a working wand I'm helpless. As the Headmaster probably told you, I've been taking lessons from others as well."

When the spell over her broke, McGonagall gulped in air like a drowning person. She took her wand and removed the block she had placed. "Mr. Potter, please don't do that again. I really dislike enclosed spaces. It was an impressive spell though. Is it supposed to be a shield of some kind?"

"No, a shield that let other's spells in and prevented you from casting out would be counterproductive. It's meant to trap people."

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Harry snorted to himself when he remembered the request Dumbledore had made of him that morning. He knew that eventually the Headmaster would want to meet his master, but he hadn't expected Snape to be the catalyst. His Saturday tutoring session with Dumbledore covered a quick history of how Tom Riddle became Voldemort. Harry appreciated the insight into his opponents mind, but would have preferred a lesson in wordless magic or alchemy. At the end of the hour Dumbledore requested his meeting and Harry promised he would try to contact his mentor before he left.

Sneaking out of the castle was as easy as when he was a third year. His invisibility cloak and map never failed him. He took the passage behind the statue of the Humped-back witch until he left the edge of the wards and apperated to Diagon Alley. He wore the appearance of a tired old man as he entered Quality Quidditch Supplies. He bought all the bludgers they had in stock, muttering about "keeping them off the streets" while he did. He also purchased a single snitch and a referee's spell book.

After shrinking his purchases, Harry went to Madam Malkin's and a small tool shop in the slums of Knockturn Alley before popping back to his tower. Cracking open the cellar revealed that his stasis charms needed work when the smell of death and decay rose out of the hole. Harry applied a bubble head charm and descended into the makeshift crypt, looking for the tallest Death Eater. Once he found the corpse that best fit his idea, he transfigured it into a bone like the Fake Moody did to Crouch.

Harry renewed the stasis and colloportus charms and apperated back to the tunnel underneath Honeydukes. Since the statue guarding the entrance was also on the third floor, Harry only had to sneak across the hall to get to the entrance to his lair.

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The trapdoor leading down Harry locked with a password. Since everyone would expect him to use the Marauder's catch phrase he deliberately avoided it and most other phrases relating to his life. The point was to keep people out after all. He ended up choosing something fitting but with little personal meaning, sanctum sanctorum.

The descent down the hole was it's own challenge, without the soft Devil's snare at the bottom to catch people, it was hard to descend. If, like Harry, the person was a good flyer they would be able to pull out of the steep dive if they were on a broom. If they were using a rope or ladder, it would be a long climb.

In the room that used to house the flying keys, Harry charmed the tiles on the floor to match the house colors and strung thin wires that made flying impossible. He cast permanent sticking charms on all the tiles except the black and blue ones. Just to be a prick, he wrote a riddle on the wall above the door that was deliberately misleading. "The path to knowledge is paved with the blood of the good, and the coin of the deceitful." Naturally anyone who came this far would assume the red and silver squares were safe to cross.

Moving to the room that used to house the giant chess set, Harry returned the bludgers and snitch to their normal size. With the help of the referee's spell book, Harry enchanted both doorway's to keep the balls from flying out. Then he linked all of the bludgers to the snitch so that they would deactivate when it was caught. It was doubtful that anyone would be suicidal enough to enter a room with twenty active bludgers, but since Harry knew the secret, he could just summon the snitch whenever he needed to pass.

The final room before his private area was both the most imposing and the simplest. Harry returned the corpse of the tall Death eater to it's original form and set to work preparing it for its used. After several hours of preparation, Harry enacted the ancient magic and watched as the animating spell burned the flesh from the corpse with eerie purple flames.

Following Harry's commands, the skeleton dressed itself in the long black hooded robes, tied a simple rope belt around its midsection, and picked up his two accessories. Following Harry's last command to guard the inner door against intruders, the skeleton moved to the center of the room and went still. With the first and hardest part accomplished, Harry set up the rest of the innermost challenge blocking his study rooms. He enchanted most of the room into a deep, impenetrable darkness that hid all the details of the room. He left one spotlight shining down on his guardian and then stepped back to take in the over all effect.

Anyone who entered found a perfectly dark room; where the only thing visible was a tall skeletal figure in black robes wearing a hood. In the figure's right hand was a gleaming scythe, and the left held a brass hourglass suspended from a chain. It looked exactly how Harry thought the personification of Death should look. If anyone tried to pass, the skeleton would attack with the scythe, but it was unlikely anybody would want to try. Harry knew that a single skeleton was no major challenge, but the symbolism should deter anyone who came this far.

In a way, the descent into Harry's study was symbolic of the commitment he made to learn his magic. Initially he must learn the magic words to unlock the path. Then he descended into the unknown, from which there was no ready way back. When faced with the false riddle, he learned not to allow others to tell him the way he should go. The bludgers and snitch represented the ever present dangers of failure and the gem of success. The skeleton was death, everyone would die eventually. It could be avoided temporarily, and the dead given new bodies or reanimated, but ultimately it was inevitable. It was only when one accepted death and his own mortality that he could really discover the limits of magic, or so Raistlin insisted. It was an odd sentiment from someone who was dead before Harry had ever met him, but if anyone would know the mysteries of death… Only someone who was willing to discover the words, delve into the unknown, walk their own path, risk injury, and accept death would be able to find him while he worked with magic most wouldn't understand.

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Harry was almost completely magically exhausted when he returned to his dorm that night. He'd just left the showers with only a towel around his waist when Ron stuck his head out of the curtains around his bed.

"Hey Harry where've you been? No one has seen you all day."

"I've been busy. You know what I found out at the end of the year, I don't have time to fool around anymore." Harry said seriously.

"Is that why you've got an hourglass on your arm?" Ron asked curiously.

Harry looked down quickly, he hadn't realized his mark was visible. "Umm… Yeah, it's there to remind me that we don't have much time. He's coming for me Ron, and I need every second to prepare."

"It's kind of like the Dark Mark though, how it's on your arm. Gave me a right scare it did."

"It just makes it easy to remind myself. I can look down in class and there it is peaking out of my sleeve, telling me to get back to work. But do you know what it really means Ron?"

"No, what?"

"It's counting how long old Volde's got left. He may be coming for me, but I'm going to get him when he does." Harry said, smiling like Ron smiled at a particularly juicy steak.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer; Some wizards are quicker to anger than others, they are probably also less subtle. Do not attempt to wake them if they are sleeping in the park.

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Tuesday morning found Harry sitting in his Defense class listening to Professor Montgomery discusses basic dueling tactics. After the deplorable level of teaching Umbridge had given them the year before, it was almost entirely DA members in the NEWT class. The class was currently studying form, etiquette, and basic tactics for dueling. Montgomery had promised to give them an exhibition duel at the end of the lesson, and since Harry had requested extra tutoring he agreed to participate.At the end of the lecture, the professor called to Harry and they squared off at the front of the room. They agreed to keep anything inside a small strip and if either set foot outside it would be the same as a forfeit.

After the ritual bowing was out of he way, the opponents faced each other with their wands at the ready. Harry twisted his body sideways to present less of a target and crouched so he could move quickly. For a few seconds they only stared into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make the first move. Harry decided to force the issue and snapped off a cutting curse at chest height since the match was to the first blood. Montgomery dropped backwards but apparently had cast a spell beforehand because he simply bounced back to his feet, shooting a percussion hex as he did. Harry moved his upper body and let it fly past before shooting a tripping jinx low to the ground. The professor brought up a quick shield and decided to step things up a bit.

Harry made a snap decision when he saw the flurry of incoming spells shouting the strongest shield he knew. The rain of spells continued for a few moments, but when Montgomery stopped to catch his breath Harry returned to the offensive. Harry conjured a thick stack of paper and banished it at his opponent, trying for concealment while he worked on his next move. Harry nearly tripped when he found his shoes tied together inexplicably, but chose to ignore it. He shot a series of low powered blasting hexes at the floor trying to hit his opponent with shrapnel for some indirect damage. As he dodged his professor's cutting curse, Harry focused his mind and conjured the biggest log he could with McGonagall's spell. The tree trunk fell to the floor just in front of the professor, who looked at it in surprise.

"Nice try, but you missed." Montgomery told him.

"That's what you think. Accio Tie!" Harry jerked his wand as it reeling in a fish.

Montgomery made a choking sound as his neckwear jerked forward. He tried to move with it to prevent it from choking him, but caught his feet on the log and tripped. The professor slammed into the floor face first and came up with a bloody nose.

"First blood!" Harry called triumphantly. "I guess that means I win."

Professor Montgomery cast a quick spell to fix his nose before shaking Harry's hand. When Harry moved to retake his seat, he spoke to the class. "And that is an excellent demonstration of how unconventional tactics can win or lose a duel. I could have bled from a paper cut or some of those stone fragments just as easily as I could from a cutting curse or other spell, but in the end I lost because I was overconfident. Never let your guard down in a fight, even if you think you've won."

No sooner were those words out of the Professor's mouth then there was a bright flash of golden light from where Harry was sitting. Harry let out a pained cry as he was blasted out of his desk and slammed into the back wall of the classroom where he fell to the floor unconscious. In an instant wands from around the room leapt into their owners hands and were pointed at the Defense professor, with angry looks on every face.

Before anyone could throw a curse, Harry stood up. His entire body radiated malice and anger in that moment. Harry flicked his wrist and the sound of tearing fabric was heard as a foot long dagger was suddenly in his left hand, having cut the sleeve on it's way to Harry's hand. To everyone's surprise he disappeared from the class after swearing, "You utter bastard."

"You can't apperate inside Hogwarts," Hermione said with awe and fear in her voice. Then the spells began to fly as Hogwarts reacted to the theft of one of their own.

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When Harry regained consciousness some time later he found he wasn't alone anymore. Raistlin was back in his mind and in control. They were in the Tower standing over a sink full of pink water.

"Why were my hands covered in blood? And what are you doing in my mind again?" Harry asked his master.

"There's always a bit of blood when you slit someone's throat." Raistlin replied calmly. "I'm here because somebody tried to kill me. They got my body but since my soul stone linked me to your clone, I wound up here instead of passing on. Fortunately they never expected me to show up again and I was able to avenge my death and recover my things with little trouble."

"So you died, but came to my body instead of going to the afterlife? How is that possible?"

"The clone spell I used it normally a form of insurance for archmages. You create a clone of yourself that lacks a soul, then when your body dies, your mind wakes up in the clone. It costs a bit of your magical strength to jump bodies like that, but it's better than death." Raistlin explained. "On the bright side, now you have proof that I can't kill you so our deal is secure. My soul was bound to your clone, and therefore to your body, just as yours is. If I were to kill you, your soul would go to my body. There are of course ways to remove souls without killing the body, but you would still be alive for all intents and purposes."

"I take it you'll be growing another clone now?" Harry preemptively rubbed his arm.

"You're not that interesting," his master said dryly. "It will be a few days before you can return to school."

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The fireplace in Albus Dumbledore's office flared to life late that evening. "Headmaster Dumbledore, are you available?" An American voice called questioningly.

Dumbledore put aside the many things that were going wrong since Harry's disappearance and moved to answer the unexpected call. "I'm here, what do you need?"

"Hello Mr. Dumbledore, I am Auror Swanson with the Massachusetts Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I am calling about one of your students, one…" The auror checked his notes, "Harry James Potter. Can you account for Mr. Potter's whereabouts this morning between the hours of five and six a.m.?"

"Just after ten thirty this morning Greenwich Mean Time he disappeared from one of his classes and hasn't been seen since. Do you know where he is?" Dumbledore asked hopefully.

"Just a moment Mr. Dumbledore. Now as his school teacher, have you noticed any troubling behavior recently? Has he become more violent, or angry?"

Dumbledore frowned. "No, I can't think of anything that would demonstrate that sort of change. Is he in some kind of trouble?"

"Did Mr. Potter have any enemies who wish to hurt him?" The auror asked, ignoring the questions.

"Just every dark wizard in Britain. Harry Potter is an icon to the British people in our war against the Dark Lord and his minions."

"I see, if Mr. Potter were to suddenly find himself in a strange situation and possibly under attack by someone, how do you believe he would respond?" Swanson asked.

"Given his past history of attacks and kidnappings, I'm confident he would fight his way out to the best of his abilities and call for help. What's going on?"

"Oh dear," The auror said tiredly, "I'll never finish the paper work on this one. Mr. Dumbledore I'm going to have to ask you to come through to my office, there are a few things we need to talk about and I need you to do something for me."

"Yes of course, I'll come right away." Dumbledore gathered the essentials and moved over to the fireplace where the floo link to the Salem Auror's office was being held open for his convenience.

Once through the link, Dumbledore shook Swanson's hand in greeting. The auror motioned to the door and began talking as they walked down a hallway. "I don't really know how to say this, but there was an incident this morning in the muggle world. Officer Jones of the Salem Police Department was on his usual route through the public park, telling vagrants to move on and the like. At roughly five thirty a woman tells us she came around a bend in the park exercise trail and saw Officer Jones confront a young man in strange black robes who was waving a knife. She reported the sharp crack of gunfire and ducked behind a trashcan. A moment later there was a second crack. When she got over her fear and looked again, both the officer and the young man were laying on the ground covered in blood. She called the police, who upon hearing the description called me."

Dumbledore was horrified. "Great Merlin! Are they alright? This has to be some kind of misunderstanding."

Swanson shook his head. "When we arrived on the scene we found traces of an apperation with the same signature we found on the young man. There was an eleven inch knife in the Police officer's throat bearing the fingerprints of the other. The young man who we believe to be Harry Potter was shot through the heart with a thirty eight caliber revolver. Forensics say that Potter died first by several minutes, but given the way Jones was found Potter cut his throat when he was leaning over to examine him. We think Potter apperated into the park with the knife in hand, which startled Jones. Jones who thought he was being threatened, shot him in self defense, and Potter killed him with his dying breath. It would account for the two cracks the witness heard, though her timing seems off."

Dumbledore stumbled and stood still. "No, no… Tell me he's not dead."

"We need your help identifying him, if it really is Harry Potter." Swanson said sadly. "I'm sorry, but there is just no good way to explain this tragic accident. If you could just come this way…"

Dumbledore and Auror Swanson walked the rest of the way to the morgue where Dumbledore identified the pale body of his favorite student and last hope for peace. How could things have gone so wrong? What of the prophecy?

"How am I going to explain this to my students?" Dumbledore sighed, sinking back into his chair.

"He was popular I take it?"

"He was an icon of hope. When he disappeared from his Defense class this morning I was barely able to save my Professor from being lynched. Nearly half the school rose against him when Harry was injured in a duel and immediately disappeared."

"It was that bad?"

"To the Gryffindors he was a god among men. To the Ravenclaws he was one of the great minds of his generation. The Hufflepuffs… Well after what happened at the Tournament two years ago, he's practically been adopted. He was tortured, half dead, and had just fought the greatest Dark Lord in half a millennia, but he cared enough about their housemate to risk his life again by bringing his body back to them. The only ones in the school who didn't treat him as the leader he was destined to become were a small group of Slytherin students who will probably end up following the Dark Lord when they graduate." Dumbledore explained slowly. "He would have died for his friends, and they would kill for him. I don't look forward to breakfast tomorrow morning."

"I am sorry for your loss. This all appears to have been some twisted kind of accident. We'll be able to release his body in a few days. We tried to contact his family but they laughed and insulted us before telling us to call you."

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"And so it pains me to inform you all of the death of one of your classmates. Harry Potter was found dead in a public park in Salem, Massachusetts, in the United States of America yesterday morning. He will be missed by many. Classes will be canceled today in remembrance, there will be a memorial service on Friday." Dumbledore stepped back from the podium in front of the teacher's table. For once his robes were not flamboyant and cheerful, but instead were a dark purple that was nearly black.

Cries of disbelief and shock rang out from around the hall as people refused to believe it. There was a single laugh from the Slytherin table but it was cut short. Blaise Zabini had to be hauled off of Draco Malfoy as her booted foot kept finding itself in a very uncomfortable place. Once she fought free of her housemates she left the Great Hall in a hurry, letting out a single sob as she did. Hermione and Ginny saw this from across the hall, and wondered. Hermione hadn't wanted to accept that the lone Slytherin was genuine in her friendship, but now she wondered. The sudden change in attitude seemed so off, but attacking Malfoy over Harry's death would put her on the wrong end of things now.

Suddenly it sank in for Hermione. This wasn't some mystery like they usually got mixed up in. Harry wouldn't be back this time and observations about who was really his friend didn't matter anymore. Her friend was dead, life finally caught up with him and he was really gone. Hermione grabbed Ron and cried into his shoulder.

It was a dark day for Gryffindor tower.

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It was Friday morning before Harry was ready to return to Hogwarts. Since they already had the lab set up, Raistlin was able to start growing another clone as soon as they gathered a few ingredients for the nutrient bath. Harry lost a bit more flesh and the spell was cast. In the meantime, Harry had been busy on his own. Once he prepared the necessary potions and powders en mass, Harry raised the remaining corpses as skeletal warriors. Harry equipped them all with knives transfigured from stone and gave them their orders.

His army of the dead would march through the forbidden forest towards Hogwarts. Under cover of darkness they were ordered to cut through the grass and dig their own graves around the premises. They would bury themselves and pull the grass back over their graves to hide that they were ever there. Harry would then be able to call on them if he ever needed. An army of fifty skeletons and the Order of the Phoenix was better than nothing,

After giving the orders to his troops, Harry apperated to the gates of Hogwarts and began his walk up the drive. He thought it strange that the castle seemed so dead at this hour of the morning. It should be just after breakfast. Third year Gryffindors should have a free period, where were they? Harry knew there would be questions, so he started towards the Headmaster's office. When he crossed in front of the doors to the Great Hall, he heard the low murmur of students beyond.

Harry slipped unnoticed into the Great Hall and kept to the shadows. The Great Hall was decked in black banners where the house banners should be, just as they were at the leaving feast after the Tournament. Harry saw the bier at the front and knew what was happening. He saw Professor McGonagall sitting at the front of the crowd and stepped out of the shadows to catch her attention.

McGonagall's eyes widened as she saw him. Harry put a finger on his lips and moved back into his alcove just enough to no longer be obvious. He held out three fingers and pointed at his friends and Zabini before jerking his thumb back and leaving the hall. McGonagall leaned over to whisper into Dumbledore's ear and they stood to leave. They collected the indicated students and headed out the door for the Headmaster's office.

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Harry was still wary about having Zabini present when he talked with Dumbledore, but it was a necessary risk. She believed herself to be one of his closest friends thanks to his spell, and if she ever felt slighted the spell could break. Others could point it out, ask her questions, whatever, but the spell would hold. Only if Harry actually acted would the spell fail. Disloyalty, aggression, hostility, or harsh words would be enough and he didn't want to risk feelings of betrayal because she wasn't around to see him alive. He wasn't going to tell the whole truth anyway, but he hoped he wouldn't have to reveal too much.

Harry heard the footsteps approaching down the corridor and soon found himself engulfed in a three way hug. Once the initial rush to prove he was breathing settled, he found himself on the receiving end of a set of very harsh stares. Dumbledore gave the password and ushered the group into his office.

"It seems I have to keep asking this. Mr. Potter. Do you have any way to prove who you are? I've got a body downstairs and a funeral about to start." Dumbledore skipped the offer of lemon drops or tea and went straight to business.

"Well I think I can explain that. Dumbledore, on my birthday you paid me a visit and cast a Fidelius charm over my new home, but I never told you the secret. Hermione, at the end of third year you and I took a little trip to see justice done and save a mangy dog. Professor McGonagall, last year I complained to you about unjust detentions with then Professor Umbridge. You told me to remember who she was reporting to and keep my head down. Is that enough?" Harry settled into one of the arm chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

The Headmaster looked to the others and noticed them nodding to themselves. "That is very convincing but it doesn't explain where you've been or what happened in the first place."

"What about me Harry? Is there some thing only I know?" Ron asked.

"There's a lot of secrets between us over the years, but I can think of one thing that will definitely prove who I am. I am running out of _Time._ If you check whoever that is downstairs, I'm positive he has no time left at all." Harry glanced down at his arm meaningfully.

Comprehension dawned in Ron's eyes, but Dumbledore wasn't helped any. "You were going to explain?"

"Ron knows what I mean, but I guess I owe you something for the other questions. Tuesday in defense, something triggered the wards around my home. Everything was going crazy and I was thrown into the wall, my fail-safes kicked in. If certain conditions are met, I have emergency measures set up to take me somewhere safe. The duel and getting knocked into the wall combined with my wards getting tripped activated them. Then a few things happened and something popped up which kept me away. That meeting you wanted, will Sunday morning work around nine o'clock?"

"I see, and I'm glad you're taking your safety seriously. Yes, Sunday will be fine. Do you have any idea where we suddenly acquired an extra body that looks like you?"

"I can't say for sure, but I'm thinking it was something like what happened to Barty Crouch Junior. His mother was taking polyjuice potion when she died and was locked in his form. If someone were impersonating me, then died, it might lead to something like this." Harry postulated slowly as if he hadn't thought this through carefully for the last couple days.

"That might work. And it is slightly more likely than intercontinental apperation through Hogwarts' legendary wards." McGonagall put in.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. He looked at Harry and his eyes began to twinkle once again. "Welcome back my boy. I am afraid that I need Professor McGonagall for a private meeting for the next few hours. Let's hope no one decides to throw a party in the common room."

Harry smiled and stood. He helped Hermione and Blaise to their feet, "We hear you loud and clear sir. And why would there be a party? It's not like anyone came back from the dead."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer; No animals were harmed in the making of this chapter. We tried but that lemur was just too damn sneaky. Don't worry, I've got a three ringed bandicoot lined up for next time and a good rifle scope.

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Sunday morning was dark and stormy, a kind of stormy rarely seen in the highlands of Scotland. It was a savagely intense storm that made travel impractical by most means. The clouds hung low and thick, while the wind and rain whipped viciously at everything in its way. Lightning split the air constantly as a lone figure approached the entrance to Hogwarts Castle. Raistlin Majere disliked wasting his power needlessly, but a proper entrance must be made. If he walked in with a smile on a perfect day, they would talk down to him. Make it impossible for anyone else to travel and then throw on the mysterious stranger act as you walk in the door and you'll automatically gain some respect.

Before leaving Hogwarts in the early morning hours, Raistlin set an animated dummy to take Harry's place. It looked, acted, and even smelled like Harry, but was little more than a doll. Taking a touch of advice from Harry, Raistlin shifted his appearance to the way it was when Harry first met him in his mind. Originally he wished to keep Harry's youth and vigor, but society gave more respect to the aged by default. A man who lived long enough to look old, you are either doing something right, or not a man to mess with, or both.

Raistlin walked through the main doors of Hogwarts just after seven, heading for the Great Hall. His staff made a surprisingly loud clack as it came to the floor. It was a replica of his old staff that Raistlin was busy enchanting, there was still work to be done on it but it served the main purposes admirably. As he entered the Great Hall, Raistlin exerted a bit more of his influence over the storm to cause a bright and loud bolt of lightning to strike just as he threw the doors open and pulled a great rush of air into the room at the same time. It gave a great effect, some of the younger years actually screamed in fright as he walked into the middle of the hall assisted by his glowing staff.

Just as Dumbledore was about to come to his feet and demand an explanation, the animated doll that was taking Harry's place quickly came and bowed at Raistlin's feet. "Master, I did not expect you to be here so early! I told my teacher to be ready for your arrival at nine," it said fearfully.

"Oh come on, I've never been that subservient. Everyone knows that I am a headstrong and impetuous youth who bows to no one." Harry complained mentally.

"We can discuss your lack of proper respect later, this is more important. Because everyone _knows_ that you bow to no one, it makes them wonder why I am so special. If I can strike fear in the fearless Boy Who Lived, what must I be capable of? And by arriving early, I have thrown your Headmaster off balance, now I control the meeting." Raistlin calmly instructed his apprentice in the subtle arts of manipulation. For the benefit of everyone else in the room he continued out loud, "Return to your study, I will address your failures later. I did not travel all this way in horrid weather to listen to excuses, dismissed."

The simulacrum gave a nod and as it snapped its fingers, Raistlin released the magic causing it to vanish in a poof of smoke. Raistlin returned his attention to the Head table and lowered his hood to expose his ancient looking golden skin, white hair, and hourglass eyes. "You are Albus Dumbledore. You wanted to speak with me, I am here."

Dumbledore studied him carefully, trying to use his mage sight to see through any illusions. He could sense the immense amount of magic flowing around the stranger, it was disturbing actually, but there was no deception. "Of course my good man, I wasn't expecting you until later but we can get started early. My office is just upstairs, allow me to lead the way. Regrettably Harry never mentioned your name…"

"Who I am is not important, you may call me Master." Raistlin brought his staff down against the floor with a sharp crack. The storm flared one last time, a lightning bolt crashing through the roof and hitting just next to Snape, and then dissipated in a matter of seconds. The students marveled at the suddenly clear sky, but the professors understood the implicit warning. As Dumbledore lead the way out of the Great Hall, Raistlin flipped his hood back up to cover his face.

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"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Dumbledore began politely. "Would you care for some tea, or perhaps a lemon drop?"

"No thank you, let us get straight to business please. The boy tells me you wish to discuss his training." Raistlin leaned back in his armchair, letting Dumbledore regain control of the situation for a few minutes.

"Yes, now he has described to me the general areas of study in battle magic and charms, but some of my staff have expressed concerns with other areas that he may be learning. Can you describe your curriculum for me?"

"Concerns? Unless my apprentice has been killing staff members I don't see what there is to be concerned about, but I shall humor you. I have done my best to give him a solid grounding in all the basic disciplines and have assigned him a number of independent study projects to advance his understanding. His evocation and illusion skills are quite exemplary, but his transmutation skills are barely passable. His prejudices and misconceptions slowed his progress in divination and necromancy initially, but he will be up to par soon."

Dumbledore shot upright in his chair, eyes wide. "Necromancy? You're teaching him the Dark Arts?"

A low chuckle was his response. "I see you share his misconceptions and prejudices. Necromancy is an essential discipline for anyone who wishes to become a warrior. It is the study of life and death after all."

"Necromancy is the vilest of magics and not something to be dabbling in, especially not for an impressionable young man." The Headmaster nearly yelled.

"No, it is neither good nor evil. Tell me Dumbledore when you use magic to heal someone, does it not exhaust you? Can you not feel your life force being sucked away with your magic to heal your friend? Is that not the very definition of Necromancy, exchanging life for death? In order to heal, you must harm at least a little. This is a fundamental truth of magic, that nothing is free."

Dumbledore relaxed slightly, "I am sorry. I assumed that you were talking of raising inferi or corrupting the soul. Perhaps I was overzealous in my reaction to what I thought were the Dark Arts."

"The discipline certainly includes those things, but opposite destroying a soul you can learn how to heal one. Regardless of what you think, Harry must learn all the disciplines of magic if he is to advance to his fullest potential. If he neglects something because someone somewhere thinks it is evil, he will not understand the magic behind it that is necessary for greater things. There are too few people that have the potential to become Archmages, all knowledge must be preserved."

"I do not approve of Harry learning the Dark Arts! He must remain a champion of the light, he has a destiny to face."

"Yes, that annoying Voldemort fellow. You have no idea how tempting it is to make him the practice dummy when Harry learns to control wraiths and spirits. He is barely competent in his magical studies and a complete failure as a leader. I fail to see how you think you can prevent him from learning anything you do not approve of however." Raistlin smirked to himself at the image of Voldemort being Harry's servant for eternity.

"I don't think you understand who I am," Dumbledore brought his aura of power to the fore. "You have already admitted to breaking several laws in teaching Harry the Dark Arts, and now you question how I plan to prevent you from teaching him more? I am the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Grand Sorcerer for the International Confederation of Wizards, Supreme Mugwump! If I wish not only will you be spending a great deal of time in Azkaban, but Harry will never have another lesson from you. You will confine your instruction to proper topics in the future."

Raistlin looked at his aura for a moment and scoffed before unleashing the full brunt of his own magical power, causing the very stones of Hogwarts to tremble. "And I know that you have no clue who I am. I am the Master of Past and Present! You have somehow reached one hundred fifty years old, but I was challenging the gods themselves long before the first Dumbledore wondered why the sky was blue. I will teach my apprentice how I wish and you will keep your opinions of what is proper to yourself."

Both statements were delivered perfectly calmly as the two old men looked into each other's eyes, sizing up each other. Dumbledore lashed out with a tendril of legilimancy toward Raistlin's mind, but it was quickly batted aside. With a rush of power, Raistlin placed his hands on either side of Dumbledore's head and threw himself at his mind. Albus Dumbledore is widely believed to be the most powerful wizard alive, and his knowledge of the mind arts second to none, but Raistlin hammered like a siege engine at the Headmaster's defenses. All he needed was one opening for a split second to do what he needed. The reason Raistlin was such a perfect manipulator was this one spell, crafted at the peak of his power. If he could defeat his opponent's will, their mind was his to do as he pleased. Most often he edited their memories and changed their attitudes so they believed they owed him a great debt or service. They would spend the rest of their lives working to repay the phantom debt, happy that their old friend trusted them enough to give them such an important task. He could divine any secret and convince them of any lie. He literally raped their minds.

After fifteen minutes of battle, Albus slipped ever so slightly and Raistlin flooded into his mind. All the knowledge and experience gained in over one hundred and fifty years flashed past him. Raistlin skipped back to his early childhood, memories of his parents and the trusted friends of the family. Bit by bit he inserted himself as a trusted advisor to the family, someone who helped when no one else could. When times were hard, Raistlin loaned the family money and never asked for it to be repaid. He was there alongside Flamel and Dumbledore when they discovered the uses of dragon blood, but refused credit for his "miniscule contribution." It was only through his interference at the battle against Grindewald that Albus was able to defeat the evil wizard, yet he fled before the Aurors arrived, missing for over fifty years. Finally he edited the memories of the meeting they had just had and the topic of discussion.

Moments later Raistlin Majere, trusted friend of the Dumbledore line and unquestionably loyal, helped Albus regain his senses. "Are you alright Albus? You hit your head pretty hard. Should I call for your nurse?"

The old man waved him off, "My head is killing me, absolutely pounding. I'll go see her for a headache potion later."

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine sir. Before you go I want to thank you again for the advice. I may not like it but I have to agree that it is for the best." Dumbledore shook Raistlin's hand and escorted him to the door. "And please don't be too harsh with Harry. I know he needs a bit of discipline now and then, but he has a good heart."

"Anytime Albus, the boy knows where to find me if you need to send me a message." Raistlin walked out the door and headed for the third floor.

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Harry was nearly tackled to the ground from behind when his friends caught him heading to lunch. Hermione and Blaise both expressed concerns about how bad his "punishments" were, but Ron pointed out that perhaps they shouldn't be squeezing so hard if they thought he was hurt. It was quite humorous when they suddenly let go and jumped back offering apologies. Unfortunately, the girls weren't distracted that easily, and returned to demanding answers he didn't particularly want to answer. Chief among them was where his study was that he disappeared to all morning.

Harry avoided them by calling on Ron's support that food was more important and hurrying off to the Great Hall. Blaise decided to join them at the Gryffindor table and surprisingly met very little resistance. After publicly stomping Malfoy's pink bits, and the slowly growing friendship with the other parts of the Trio, anyone who didn't want her around because she was a Slytherin knew enough to keep their mouth shut about it. She did receive a few glares though.

After lunch Hermione dragged Ron off to the library for a "transfiguration assignment," she actually wanted to find out more about master/apprentice rules but knew that Harry would continue to stonewall her like he had been since he reappeared at the start of term. Harry offered to escort Blaise back to her common room. Blaise raised an eyebrow when Harry said he knew a shortcut but insisted they take the normal way instead. Along the way, the dark haired beauty told him how things were going in Slytherin and what he needed to look out for. The spectacle this morning was too recent for her to know how it would affect people, but his supposed death was likely to cause him trouble. The common feeling among the Slytherin crowd was that it was rigged intentionally to garner more attention.

At the entrance to her common room, Blaise bent over slightly and gave Harry a kiss on his cheek. She looked at him with faintly smoldering eyes, just before whisking herself into the snake pit. "At least you know there is one Slytherin who's happy you aren't dead."

Harry was surprised to say the least. Mentally he was cursing the mess he got himself into this time, but outwardly he just touched his cheek dumbly as if he weren't sure it had happened. Raistlin decided to make his presence known at this point and interrupted his musings with a scathing tone, "Did you pay even the slightest amount of attention when I taught you how to charm a person's senses and befuddle their mind? I warned you, but no… You knew better didn't you?"

"Of course I paid attention, but I don't recall you ever telling me that charming a woman would make her crazy?" Harry replied scathingly.

"What about when I told you about my encounter with that female gully dwarf? I specifically remember telling you that impressionable female minds might fall in love with you." Raistlin reminded him.

"But you said Gully Dwarves were a stupid race, incapable of higher thinking! In case you missed something Blaise Zabini is a human."

"A hormonal teenage girl human, they are hardly known for their staggering mental prowess. You'll receive no help from me with this mess. You ignored me because you thought my rules didn't apply to you, now you see the folly of your ways. Until you break the spell, she's only going to decide she loves you more and more."

Harry sputtered, "But if I release her, she'll know I cast a spell in the first place. Fiddling with people's minds is fairly illegal; I can't afford to just let her go. Besides, I still need my spy Slytherin."

Suddenly there was a new voice in the conversation, "My, my, my, how interesting is this? Potty's talking to himself, toying with the minds of his fellow students, and is using Zabini to spy on me. I wonder how you plan to get out of this one Potter." Draco sneered at him as he stepped out from behind a suit of armor. "You'll be expelled for sure this time, casting an unforgivable on another student can't be swept under the rug by that muggle loving fool. Soon you'll be in Azkaban and my Lord will be able to kill you whenever he wishes."

Harry panicked for a moment, but then smiled like a lion cornering his prey. "Are you threatening my life Malfoy? Is that what I'm hearing?"

Draco smirked, "A Slytherin doesn't threaten Potter, we promise."

"I'm glad to hear that, it makes my choices a lot simpler. Do you have a last request?" Harry twirled his wand and cast a silencing spell around their section of the hallway and a notice-me-not charm.

"What are you talking about? You're too much of a goody-goody to do anything Potter. You even groveled at the feet of whoever that imposter was at breakfast."

Harry's hands began moving and he chanted his spell. The shadows in the corridor deepened and soon Harry and Draco were the only things visible on an infinite plane of darkness.

"What are you doing Potter?" Draco demanded with just a touch of the fear he could already feel threatening to overwhelm him.

Harry ignored him and finished the spell. The darkness took a form, soon a horde of green monkeys with vicious claws descended on Draco Malfoy to tear him apart. Malfoy began screaming and begging for mercy before the frog like simians ever reached him. The pack of Clabberts savaged Malfoy for several seconds before he fell over dead. Immediately the spell ended and the light returned. Harry's phantasmal killer left Draco dead without a scratch on him; from all appearances he was literally scared to death. Harry quickly cast a shrinking spell on him and tucked the doll sized body into his pocket. He quietly and stealthily went to the second floor and entered Myrtle's bathroom. Luck was with him that day because Myrtle either was not awake or just not present. Harry opened the Chamber of Secrets and disposed of Draco's body before sealing it again.

It was Wednesday before anyone started looking for Malfoy, but it quickly grew once it got started. The professors searched his dorm room and all the usual "couples areas" after he didn't turn up for classes three days in a row, and then fire-called his family to see if he was with them. Once Narcissa Malfoy learned that her son was missing, the search exploded. She got the Aurors and several private groups involved. Early Thursday morning, Narcissa Malfoy was sitting in her drawing room distraught for her missing son, when her eyes fell upon the family tapestry. There embroidered in silver thread was the evidence she feared most, "Draco Abraxas Malfoy, 1980-1996." By nightfall Thursday it was confirmed, Draco Malfoy was dead and his body missing.

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Lessons with Flitwick were pretty interesting. He put Harry through the paces for physical fitness and silent spell casting. He insisted that dueling, and true fighting, was as much a physical battle and a mental battle as it was a magical battle. Flitwick gave him an oppressive exercise regime to be done every morning and cast a spell that locked his jaw and sealed his lips. Flitwick agreed with McGonagall that Harry learned best through necessity so he would not be able to speak or eat without a straw until he was able to consistently able to cast nonverbally. Harry was also given a list of spells to be ready to demonstrate in two weeks time, and a pass to the restricted section so he could look them up.

Friday morning Harry went to the hospital wing to get his nutrient potions for yet another silent day when he saw that the beds had two new additions. Remus Lupin was bandaged up in one of them and Nymphadora Tonks was unconscious and badly injured in the other. Harry ran over to Remus' side. With a flick of his wand, Harry canceled the spells holding his mouth shut.

"Oh my God, Professor what happened?" Harry asked, trying to see what all was wrong with him.

"I'm going to be alright cub. I just got a little roughed up is all," Remus calmed him. "Albus finally decided that it was time to go on the offensive against the Death Eaters. Tonks and I caught up with three of them last night who were having fun torturing muggles. We killed two and the other one is in custody, but Tonks got hurt pretty bad."

"What were you thinking attacking when you were outnumbered?" Harry fussed at him.

"It was the right thing to do. Once we saw them torturing those muggles we couldn't just walk away. We had to help them. You forget though, I'm a werewolf. We're stronger and faster than most wizards, plus we are a lot tougher than the rest of you. It will take more than a few slashing curses to kill me."

Madam Pomphrey came over at that point and glared at him for disturbing her patient. "Mr. Potter, while I'm glad you picked up silent casting so quickly, but you needn't exercise your jaw in my clinic. There are injured people who need their rest."

Harry was confused for a moment then caught on. "Alright, I finally got it! No more nasty potions for me."

"Care to demonstrate your new prowess cub?" Moony asked.

Harry waved his wand a few times, concentrating hard, but nothing happened. Madam Pomphrey locked his jaw again and handed him three potions. The potions were doing more for him than his usual diet so she was happy to have an excuse to keep them going a while longer. "Looks like you still have some work to do, better luck next time."

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A/N; If you want to know what Raistlin did to Dumbledore, find a copy of "The Book of Vile Darkness" and look at the 9th level spell "Mindrape". That was my inspiration here. Anyone who wonders why Raistlin "advised" Dumbles to take the war offensive is finally asking the right questions. I also referenced a scene from "Dragons of Autumn Twilight" in this chapter. Raistlin made Harry's mistake when he was younf too. It may be a bad idea to charm/dominate members of the opposite sex. They might decide you're sexy.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer; Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, then for a few close friends, then for money. Unfortunately, unlike Moliere, I have not progressed to stage three of this analogy. Do your brain a favor and look up who that was. Then figure out who Honoré de Balzac is. I'll admit a fondness for classical French comedy and satire.

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The next few weeks passed in a fairly normal style, well at least they did after Harry got the hang of nonverbal spell casting. Prior to that milestone they were fairly quiet since grunts and pointed glares could only accomplish so much and Harry only knew rude hand signals. Without true mastery of the skill, silently renewing his enchantment on Zabini was an exhausting process requiring complete and utter concentration and he could only judge his success by her continued good will.

From Blaise, Harry discovered that most of Slytherin was in a very tricky place. With Malfoy's disappearance and assumed death, the pro-dark lord faction had lost their most vocal mouthpiece and the others were happy to be rid of him. No one else had the stones to support Voldemort so loudly, but the loss of their stupidest member only made them more difficult to keep track of. Another significant factor in the House dynamic was Harry himself. Raistlin's little show put him as a rogue power, and an unknown quantity. He wasn't training under Dumbledore, and he wasn't bowing before the Dark Lord. With one or the other Slytherins knew what to expect and could plan to block stunners or dodge killing curses accordingly, but Harry's new master came without any preconceptions about how he would respond to things.

The thing that really confused them all was Snape's insistence that Harry had somehow murdered Draco, but somehow simultaneously refused to consider that he might be competent enough to cover his tracks. The hatred between Harry and Draco was well known throughout the school, so the Slytherins knew he had motive. Opportunity was certainly not hard to acquire, given how many little used or dark corridors the castle had. It was generally assumed that Harry didn't have it in him to kill, but that was debated by some quietly. What really perplexed them about Harry was his apparent indifference to the whole affair. If he had just offed his greatest detractor, he ought to be smug, or even guilt ridden. Instead Harry just went on with his daily life as if nothing at all had changed.

It wasn't long before Raistlin's new body was complete and Harry alone in his own mind once again. The departure of his master allowed Harry to return to normality somewhat, sleeping in a bed for instance, but he knew his studies would be slower going. He was supposed to study enchanted items and their manufacture before the winter break, but didn't know how successful he would be. One week before Halloween, Harry felt the ties to Raistlin slip dramatically as if he were suddenly a million miles away. A tiny fragment of a connection existed and Harry could tell that his mark was connected to something, but messages went unanswered and all attempts at locating his master failed. He was on his own again.

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Slowly and carefully Harry traced the runes over and over. Before him, on one of the many workbenches in the Stone Chamber beneath Hogwarts, sat the tools with which he would craft his victory. A silver inkwell was enchanted specially for only the most important contracts and documents, charms and runes ensured that any contracts written in the ink could not be broken. A ritual knife lay in wait. He had a paintbrush made from his own hair. The final ingredient to his plan was waiting in a special box with a warming charm, twenty pale white orbs.

Over and over again he practiced the runes, Ehwaz, Purisaz, Fehu, Uruz, Algiz, and Tiwaz. Loyalty, Solidarity, Glory, Slavery, Success, Bravery, Strength, Action, Defense, Protection, War, Victory, and Honesty… Linked together, one leading into the next and back to the start. Soon he would have to begin, he would fill the inkwell and begin painting the runes with his blood. He only prayed that he did not make any mistakes. Soon Voldemort would learn why annoying a parseltongue was not conducive to long life. Soon…

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On the night of Halloween, Harry found himself sitting in the Great Hall wondering about how to solve his Zabini problems. Now that things had settled down a bit, it was definitely time to do something about the situation. How valuable a spy was she really? Could he get away with killing another Slytherin so soon? Did he want to?

On the one hand, keeping up this false friendship was trying on his nerves. He had to watch everything he said around her, yet not act like he was watching what he said lest she feel left out. On the other she hadn't been quite as openly affectionate lately, which was a blessing, but he could now see something smoldering just behind her partially lidded eyes. There was a hidden passion that promised pain and pleasure poured from the same cup. It was frightening and captivating at the same time. Clearly he needed to do something, but it seemed all of his options were rather extreme.

Letting her go meant that she would realize almost immediately that she was under a controlling spell and would definitely cost him his spy. Continuing as he had been was a royal pain, he hated how fake everything felt. Stronger spells which lasted longer and didn't have the infatuation component would invariably turn her into a mindless drone awaiting his orders with no independent thought. He couldn't control her every second of the day, and she wouldn't act normally if he was, so they were definitely out. Killing her was the other option. He didn't feel right about it though. He couldn't remember her ever doing anything to him and she certainly wasn't a bad person, but he just couldn't risk it.

Now that he was thinking about her, Harry noticed that she wasn't at the feast with everyone else. Harry began to get that tingle at the back of his mind that told him something wasn't right. Things were flowing too smoothly for it to be Halloween. Something always went wrong on Halloween, so what was he missing? Were the Slytherins up to something? Was Blaise up to something? A whispered word caused the Marauder's Map to appear in his hands thanks to a tiny glyph he had inscribed on his possessions that allowed him to summon it, his cloak, or broomstick at will. The process which was related to the Dark Mark and the mark his own Master used was expensive and difficult but worth it for essential items he couldn't carry with him constantly.

Stepping out of the Great Hall without attracting attention, Harry activated the map and started looking for his wayward spy. Blaise wasn't in the Hall, nor her dorms. The classrooms were easy to sweep since few people missed the feast. Harry was mildly amused to see Theodore Nott's and Pansy's very close together in a fifth floor study room, but he kept looking for that one particular dot. She wasn't in any of the towers, nor the dungeons, and he didn't see her on the grounds or in one of the secret passages either. Harry supposed it was possible she was off campus, in the Room of Requirements, or the Chamber of Secrets…

Or his private domain! That's what that tingling in his senses was about, somebody tripped his motion detectors! Harry summoned his cloak and headed towards the abandoned third floor corridor.

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Meanwhile in the tunnel leading down to Harry's study, Blaise Zabini was having a few problems. She hadn't expected the hole to be this deep. She'd seen Potter just jump down the hole and expected to simply slide down her rope and then use it to climb out once she's found his secret. Instead she found herself clinging to a knot on the end of the rope as if his life depended on it, the bottom still an indeterminable distance below her. She tried yelling for help but doubted anyone could hear her, she only hoped she could hold out until the prefects started patrolling after the feast. The sound of croaking and squeaking from somewhere far below her made her regret her decision to pry into things Potter had obviously gone to lengths to keep secret.

Up above her she could barely hear footsteps. Blaise started screaming for help again, begging whoever was above her to help pull her out of this hole. A figure appeared at the top, silhouetted by the torchlight. He seemed to look down the hole for a moment as if trying to discern it's depth. She yelled to warn him that it was too deep, and saw him become surrounded by a bright blue aura for a moment before it faded and he began to effortlessly pull her up towards the surface. When she was within five feet of the top, she saw him pull a knife and cut the rope just behind where he held it with only one hand.

"Hello Blaise…"

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Harry looked down at the shocked expression in her eyes. He saw the dawning comprehension that she had been caught and the fearful uncertainty about her future. It truly was a priceless moment and the sudden thrill he felt because he held power over her was simply intoxicating.

"Oh Harry, thank Merlin you found me! I wasn't watching where I was going and I tripped, and I couldn't get myself out, and now you're here…." She trailed off as his expression didn't change.

"By all means keep going," Harry prompted her jovially, "I really am interested in hearing about how you found yourself slipping through a password locked trapdoor and just happened to catch hold of a rope that was conveniently tied to nearby a suit of armor. Keep in mind though that since I'm only holding on with one hand the rope might slip a bit."

"Pull me up Potter, this isn't a game!"

"Ah my dear, but it is. It is a very serious game but a game none the less. Think of it as a game of poker. The pot is rather large and both of us are certain the other is bluffing so why don't we put the cards on the table."

"You put a spell on me, controlled my mind somehow," Blaise accused hotly.

"And you've been trespassing where you're not welcome," Harry pointed out calmly. "In fact I'm pretty sure you've known about the spell for a while now so don't act so surprised."

"Whatever it was wasn't nearly as strong once you couldn't speak," she admitted.

"I'll try to remember that in the future. Now the only thing to be decided is what to do with you," Harry grabbed the rope with both hands again and sat down on the edge. "I'll admit I don't particularly want to drop you and I do still need someone to keep a watch on public opinion. So the real question is if it will be too much trouble to keep you alive."

"Treaty negotiations while my life is literally in you hands? I never thought you had it in you, Potter."

"Neither did Malfoy, what's your price?"

"What does anyone want? I want power. You know things the rest don't and I want you to teach me. Additionally you hold a lot of influence both financial and political because of who you are and who your family was. You aren't using it and I'll make sure you have even more when you do need it. Share it with me and we shall be unmatched in the Wizarding world." Her eyes filled with a look he was familiar with. He could see that hunger and passion within her he first saw a few weeks ago, only now he understood it for what it was.

Harry considered it for a moment and decided it wouldn't really cost him much and if she kept her end of the bargain it would even simplify some things. He pulled her the rest of the way up and grabbed her hand. "Very well, but know this; if you cross me you will discover why even Voldemort doesn't scare me anymore, and if you betray even one of my secrets you disappear. No blood, no screams, you simply disappear and cease to exist. No one will ever know what happened."

Blaise just nodded her head in acceptance. Harry vanished the rope and relocked the trapdoor that led below. The silencing spell on the door closed off the faint sounds he could hear from below, sounds that to him were a symphony of destruction. With a smirk Blaise looped her arm through his and started to pull him away.

"Come, if I'm going to anything from your fame we must be seen together. Smile, an unhappy couple doesn't last long and my plans rely on an illusion of permanency."

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It didn't take long for Blaise to start taking advantage of her new position as Harry's "girlfriend," but she knew how to play the game properly. She didn't flaunt it, nor did she hide it. The rumor mill ran rampant but she didn't try to deny anything, but she didn't confirm anything either. A enigmatic smile was her only answer. Outside of Slytherin the amount of respect she received from her peers only increased, while fear and power fed the snake pit. She became powerful by association and started making moves with all the right people to ensure she stayed there.

One of the first things she did was to ask Professor Montgomery for a pass to the Restricted Section. He was happy to sign once he learned she was "researching something for Harry" that had to do with the war. Soon she was pouring over texts that few were allowed access too. The first topic she consumed oddly enough was spells for librarians and book publishers. The texts were in the restricted sections because they included most of the old copy protections charms that prevented her from using a copying spell to duplicate whole books. She was uninterested in this, but copying selected portions for later study was appealing since it didn't require her to spend hours in the library reading books that might raise alarms. Next on her list were magical shields and defensive techniques, followed by portkeys and other magical means of escape. Better a live coward than a dead hero after all.

Notebook after notebook was soon filled with potions, charms, curses, hexes, jinxes, shields, basics of alchemy, the process for becoming an animagi, and specialized spells for every job she found remotely interesting. She skipped whole chapters worth of description and history, copying only the necessary bits. Thousands of pages were filed away over a single weekend. There was one lone book of rituals forgotten in a back corner that she copied in its entirety. Most of them would probably be worthless to her but they would be valuable barter to somebody.

There was one important rule that Blaise Zabini lived by. Knowledge is power. She didn't need to be able to cast the most powerful spell to be a powerful witch, but if she knew who could or where to learn it, that was something she could use to her advantage. Likewise a piece of knowledge that was harmless in its usual niche could become deadly outside of it. What was the difference between a spell designed to clean fish and a curse that disemboweled opponents? The venue decided the usefulness of the spell. A blasting potion commonly found deep in the goblins' mines could also be a powerful weapon if misused. Sizing charms from a seamstress' shop could immobilize opponents as their clothes shrank a few sizes. The killing curse was a fearsome weapon but using it would almost surely ruin her, but there were easier methods that were perfectly legal.

Harry meanwhile was working on enchantments when he wasn't fussing over his side project or in class. So as to save himself the time of casting the spell on Blaise constantly until she learned it herself, he was working on enchanting a pair of reading glasses so the wearer could read magical inscriptions like those found in his spellbooks. Once he had mastered that He planned to use the more difficult version on his own glasses so that he could read any written language. He was considering if he should also enchant them to show magical auras. On the one hand it was an invaluable skill that could stop him from accidentally touching a portkey or cursed item, but it would also be very distracting in high magic environments. The few times he had used the spell on himself since he returned to Hogwarts led to severe disorientation, even the stones glowed with the pulse of centuries of magic use. He was sure that once he understood the process better, it would be no problem at all to make it a function he could turn off, but for the moment the solution eluded him.

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A/N; Ok Harry's special project shouldn't be too difficult to divine at the moment but I'll leave it as a riddle for the determined reader. The rune translation I used above I got from http://www(dot)runeschool(dot)org/courses/intro01/08meanings(dot)htm so first one to tell me what Harry is doing gets a cookie I hope people like the way I'm taking the Harry/Blaise sub-plot, but I can understand that some of you are going to say I killed the whole story right there. Logically though, no form of deception will work forever so something had to happen. I decided to bring the Slytherin nature to the fore a bit and make her less Harry's love puppy now that the spell is off.

As always, feedback is appreciated.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer; I don't Harry Potter, nor do I own Raistlin Majere. If Weis, Hickman, and Rowling wanted to give them to me however, I would appreciate the gift.

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By the middle of November Harry was getting sick and tired of everything that kept going wrong with his attempts to enchant the glasses for Blaise and himself. No matter what he tried it was as if the glasses refused to hold onto the spells. He had been careful to purchase simple clear lenses in a non magical frame so there would be no other enchantments to interfere but something just wasn't right. He only had one more method he was willing to try before he gave in and sought out Raistlin for help. How he was supposed to do that he didn't know since it had been almost a month since the link in his arcane mark went dead, but he would find a way somehow.

He tried casting the spell on the glasses, it only lasted the usual amount of time. Casting it repeatedly until he grew exhausted only resulted in the glasses becoming magically charged like a capacitor even after the spell wore off. He tried visualizing the glasses like an onion, placing the spell within each layer and overlapping it nearly a hundred times, and only succeeded in making the enchantment hold for a few hours. He just didn't understand what went wrong.

The spell to read magical text was the first thing every apprentice learned, the most basic of cantrips. It was essential to the learning process so they could gather other spells for their own spell books. Everything he knew about this system of magic said that enchanting a pair of reading glasses to work with that spell said even the weakest of wizards should have been able to do it in a day or perhaps two on the outside. He'd been trying and failing for two weeks.

The last approach he was going to try was something he vaguely knew about from the muggle world. While he didn't know the specifics, Harry knew that computers had some sort of underlying intelligent bits that were needed before you could use the programs. Perhaps if he created some form of magical computer thing and then laid the enchantments on top of it they would hold. After asking Hermione for some information, an act he later regretted as she went on and on talking, Harry got a very vague idea of how computer logic stuff worked. The chips did the thinking, they were made from silicon and some other things and mainly routed the different pieces around wherever they needed to go. Some research in the library revealed that the emeralds he had bought in case he learned some of the higher level spells were beryllium, aluminum, and silicon that would resonate well with most magics.

Harry put small chips of emerald in the corners of the frames and set to work again. He saturated the gems with magic first, then began with memory and intelligence enhancing spells. Thanks to the text from the library, he had a pretty good idea of the crystal structure inside the stone and used that to enhance his spell casting. The intelligence spells were laid along the hexagonal grid in one direction while the memory spells worked at right angles, weaving in and out of the intelligence grid for a strong network of magic threads. It was like a net holding back all the magic he had charged the item with. After determining that the spells were holding over the course of a few days, Harry threaded the magic reading spell at an angle to the two previous layers. He wove it through the crystals, through the individual strands of the net, and tucked either end into the reservoir of magic so it would be fueled to last for a very long time.

He tested them by putting the glasses on and tapping them with his wand to activate them. The spell came into life with no hesitation and Harry had no problem reading the book of cantrips that Raistlin had given him at the end of the previous year. By all indications it worked exactly like he had planned, though he could not for the life of him figure out why it had taken him five days of work instead of the one he knew it should have.

With that done, Harry sat down to chart out what spells he would allow Blaise to learn. She was an ally for now, though it was a parasitic relationship, and he had agreed to teach her some of what he knew. Most of the cantrips looked safe but he decided he would not allow her to learn any of the necromancy spells or the more dangerous area of effect spells. He also decided not to give her anything above the second improvement from the base cantrips. He would provide her the materials to learn to light candles, wreath her hands in flames, or control a small fireball but not the next evolution to the exploding fireballs. If she was smart enough to work out the rules of magic on her own and build her own versions, so be it but he was not going to give her any more weapons than she already had. He needed to be able to kill and slaughter while unarmed, she did not. Assuming she ever decided to take the Test and dedicate her life to magic, she could be given access to them then.

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Settling in for breakfast on the third Monday in November, Harry passed Blaise the completed glasses and book of cantrips to study. He quietly explained about the need to create her own book and the spell on the glasses but mentioned the rest was largely up to her. Across from them Ron and Ginny were discussing strategies for the upcoming Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match. Harry listened with a bit of interest, just because he couldn't play didn't mean he didn't enjoy the sport, but they were interrupted when a tall man in an expensive suit entered the hall.

Professor Dumbledore stood at the head table and addressed the visitor, "Is there something you need sir?"

"Yes, my name is Dennis Haskell from Locke, Stock, Hook, and Cook Law Firm," The man explained. "I am here to discuss some business with one Harry James Potter, may I meet with him briefly?"

"Since Mr. Potter is a minor his Head of House will have to sit in on the meeting but otherwise I don't suppose there is a problem so long as he is present for his classes" Dumbledore looked to Professor McGonagall. "Would you prefer to borrow my office or use your own?"

"We will use mine, I'm sure you have a busy morning," McGonagall stood and walked down the aisle between the tables. "Come Mr. Potter, Mr. Haskell, we will continue in my office."

The solicitor nodded and followed without question while Harry was still trying to figure out what was going on. Seeing his friends questioning looks Harry just shrugged to them and joined in the trek to the office. Once there McGonagall offered tea, coffee, or juice to Mr. Haskell and then got down to business.

"Now that we've dispensed with the pleasantries, I must ask about your business with Mr. Potter. Is there some kind of trouble the school should be concerned about?" She enquired.

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," He assured them, which allowed Harry to relax a bit. "If it weren't for the odd circumstances surrounding it, our business would have been so routine that we'd normally do it by mail. A long while back when our firm was still in it's infancy, we had a client file a Last Will and Testament with us and I am here to execute it as agreed."

"Ah, so I'm the long lost heir of someone then?" Harry asked.

"Not exactly," Haskell opened his briefcase and reached inside for a small parcel which he then unshrunk. "The unusual thing about this Will was that you were mentioned by name and we were given a date to execute it, today."

Harry looked to the wrapped package. It bore a label that read "Harry James Potter, Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland."

"How is that possible? How long ago did this happen?" McGonagall asked, stunned.

"This particular estate has been in our files since 1538. The client, who is only listed by the name Majere, insisted that we deliver two books that he wrote in an unknown language a letter in a different unknown script, and a key to a Gringotts vault. He specified that they were to pay off a debt, though he did not indicate what was owed or when it was incurred."

Harry didn't know whether to smile or frown. On one hand at least now he knew why his mark wasn't responding, on the other it was likely the books were lists of more things for him to study and work to be done. "Thank you Mr. Haskell, is there any paperwork you need me to sign?"

"Just this form to say you've taken possession of the items," He passed Harry a piece of parchment which he promptly signed. "I don't suppose you can shed some light on this mystery? This contract has been the office mystery for centuries and has had everyone in an uproar this past year when it became obvious that you would be the one to receive it."

Harry resisted the urge to smirk. "As to what exactly the letter and books contain, I can only guess until I've had a chance to study them. The debt I do know about however. Last June a man came to me with no money, food, or place to live. I ended up spending several thousand galleons on rare materials and supplies for some of his magical experiments. Perhaps this man Majere was a seer who decided to pay his descendant's debts."

00000

A cheery fire blazed in the hearth as Albus Dumbledore sat quietly in his chair. He stared into the flames for quite some time before he turned to the room's other occupant. "I can't explain it Severus. It's as if I've lived two lives and I cannot prove which of them was real. I feel certain that I've known Harry's teacher for literally my entire life and owe him a tremendous debt, but yet I never wrote anything about him down in my journals and certain events in my pensieve do not match my own recollection."

"Did he bewitch your mind?" Snape asked. "A skilled legilimens or occlumens can occasionally produce a fake memory."

"No," Albus frowned thoughtfully. "If that was the case I would have to doubt the memories in my pensieve. I have so many memories about this man, know him so completely, that they seem incontrovertible. Yet there are still a few clues here and there that convince me something is just not right."

"Like what, can you think of something specific?"

"I was talking to myself in my office last week, trying to figure it all out, when I asked the portraits in my office what they thought about the man," Dumbledore explained. "You can imagine my surprise when they told me they would never allow necromancy and summoning to be taught at Hogwarts. Apparently even my memories of our meeting do not match up with theirs. More troubling by far is something one of the older portraits told me, that he remembered the man from well over six hundred years ago trying to recruit only the best young wizards away to study at another school."

"Impossible," Severus exclaimed. "No one except Flamel could have lived that long."

00000

In the last week of November, Harry was startled out of his studies by an alarm going off. Once he determined it was not just the proximity alarm on his trapdoor being set off again, Harry jumped up and rushed past his skeleton guard. He summoned the snitch and made his way through the other traps on his way back to the first chamber under the long fall. Already he could hear the terrified squeaks and squeals of the mice he had been breeding for several months.

He arrived just in time to see the first cracks break all the way through the rune covered eggs he was incubating. Comically large toads struggled to escape their bindings as the eggs cracked beneath them. One of the shells fell away completely and Harry could hear an angry hiss before the toad died with one last spasm. Within moments the nineteen other eggs lay in pieces on the table and all croaking had ceased.

Harry grabbed a handful of squirming baby mice and walked over to the table to see his latest achievement. He dropped the mice one by one as he smiled and hissed, "At last my children, Royalty has returned to Hogwarts and soon the Heir of Slytherin will see why he should not attempt to use us so."

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A/N; I know, it's a short chapter but hey, at least it's something new in this story. If you still haven't guessed what Harry's project was... THere's no hope for you, just give up.  



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